I chose you
by Radiklement
Summary: He had one goal, to become Fuhrer, which was also his curse. He was number 12, a puppet without strings. He was one sin: Wrath, held back and controlled. He had a mission: pretending to be human, when he had been for most of his life. He was given the name King Bradley, with all the chains that meant. He had one liberty, one choice that he could make. And it was her. -Pre-manga fic
1. Out there

FMA brotherhood fic, Bradley-centric. How King Bradley, from the man he'd been and the homunculus he's become, got to meet his future Mrs Bradley and all the hardships and joys which followed... Romance/drama fic.

Plz, keep in mind that I'm a French writer, English is just my second language... Thank you and have a nice time reading!

I chose you – Chapter 1

He took one step forward, out in the open. Breathed in and out, slowly.

At first, he was surprised to see no walls. The horizon extending infinitely between the buildings of Central. He walked out of the lab. The scientists and doctors, the people who had raised him up for the sole purpose of creating the next Fuhrer, had changed him into clean clothes. They had given him an eye patch to hide his ouroborous tattoo. He still tried to adapt to look at the world with only one eye. He was still scared from dying back there. Wasn't too sure of who or what he was.

A homunculus. A greater human. An almost perfect being. Wasn't he the same guy as before? He still had the same mind. The same looks. But there was so much fury in his heart. So much anger for all that he'd been through, and at the idea that he'd been the only one to live through this, between all his old comrades. He didn't like the others candidates. He hadn't been raised to like them. But when he had seen them all dead, lying in a room, covered with blood, he had felt true fear. And now, he was still so scared. He had survived the wrath of his "father". Meeting the said guy hadn't meant much to him. He had tried to understand. But the wrath was so strong in him, it made it hard to listen.

He had briefly met his new brothers and sister. Envy, Glutonny, Pride and Lust. Sloth wasn't there; he was already busy working for their father's plan. As for Greed, he had betrayed them sometimes ago and was still on the run. The father didn't care much for the moron, so there was no use going after him. As for himself, the new fuhrer was Wrath. Pure frustration. And the leader of the Amestris' nation. In his confused mind, it barely made any sense. He had many new names instead of the number the scientists had used to refer to him. He was Wrath. He was a homunculus. He was the Fuhrer. He was also King Bradley. He didn't know if he liked King. Bradley sounded almost human though.

"So then, Bradley, here is the capital of your country. You still have a lot to learn before you become the leader of this nation. But the worst part is done! Har har har!" the doctor laughed.

His laugh drove Bradley mad. He hated this guy. Hated him for talking to him like a dog. He felt as a pawn. Everything was planned for him.

"Come Bradley, you need a house now! And a wife also."

He looked over his shoulder, back at the crazy doctor. Hatred burned in his heart, so strongly that it hurt. He had so many people to look after him, to make sure he was following the path already carved for him. So many bosses. How could they say he was the leader of this country if he had to answer to so many? How could they name him a king when he was their slave, forced to obey their petty rules?

He felt so much power in his blood. So much lives in him, that made him almost invincible. And still, he was bound, tied down, like a puppet.

"If this is my country... can't I have a look around it?"

"You'll have plenty of time later on, silly boy."

His arm moved faster than he'd expected, as if the last stretch of patience in him had just shredded, and he caught the doctor by the throat, holding his very life in his hand, glaring at him.

"I'll take the time now." He said firmly.

Things were going on too fast. He needed time to accept all of this. To swallow down all his anger, so that he could remain calm. They had told him he had to set an example. That he would be given the right to kill as much as he wanted later. And even if it made him angrier just to think he was obeying, he wanted to wait. To collect his thoughts. To fight with this new, stronger anger. It was still his mind and his heart being angry. The only thing that had changed in him was the lives added to his own. He heard the souls crying in the back of his skull. They had started yelling and crying at the very moment he was injected with their liquid stone. He was now the vessel of his "father" 's wrath. But he still wanted to be an individual. He wasn't just an extension of that said father. He had never met him before and now, just because the old fart had input a part of his sin into him, he belonged to him and was to follow his orders? As if! He had fought and sweated all this time to become the country leader. To have a better life. He had always fought to survive among the other candidates. And he had. So then, hadn't he won any right? Couldn't he be free to do as he will?

"But...!" the doctor tried to object.

"How can I become a leader if I don't know how the humans act and live? I want to see them. See real people. Walk around the streets of the city."

"You can't..."

"It wasn't a demand." He added, letting his anger transpired in his voice.

"I can't let you go and get los...!"

He was interrupted by the stronger grip of Bradley's hand on his neck and started gasping for air.

"I've memorized Central's streets configuration years ago. If I get lost, you'll just have to find me. But pray that you don't, 'cause I won't come back before that I feel like it, understood?"

After all, hadn't they waited for years already to appoint him as the new fuhrer? They could still wait a few more days. A few more weeks. Even months.

"Ye... yes, sir."

"That's more like it." Bradley smiled.

He let go of the doctor and walked away.

When he was far enough not to see the building where he had lived for most of his life, Wrath realized this was a mistake. He had never met any real normal people. He wasn't even sure if they existed. But then again, he was supposed to lead other people. In this Central city, men and women were living to be ruled. He was their king. There were the future sacrifices for his father's plan. But his mind was going further then that as he walked down the streets. Somewhere in this country, in this world, there had been a man and a woman who had bring him to life. He had been a real human as every of them, for most of his life. Now, he was in the next step of evolution. Or so the scientists said. But if he was so much greater, if he was a superman, why did he have to obey his teachers? He didn't nurture much respect for them. Not after that they made him suffer so much. He yearned for something different. But he had no idea what.

He knew many words that had been nothing but words to him. Like friendship, justice and love. He knew those were ideals that thrived mankind. But he'd never experienced any of them. Never was given the right to.

"These are just more meaningless chains." He thought out loud.

For once, he was given the right to talk to himself. And he tried to experience the feel of hearing his own voice. His voice which was supreme and could order anything to a soldier now. He barely knew that voice. Or maybe was it the Wrath inside him which made him unsure about who he'd been.

He walked around, experiencing the wind in his hair and the sun slowly setting down in the sky. There weren't much people around. He crossed a bridge and stopped in the middle of it, spotting his reflection in the water. He had seen this guy before, reflected on his blade before that the sword got covered in blood. He realized that it was him. King Bradley. The perspective fuhrer who had won over all the others. The twelfth try. He blinked and bent down to look closer at his reflection. Raised one hand to touch the eye patch on his right side. Hesitated. Felt more anger building inside him. The souls yelling were hard to contain. So hard to silence down. He closed his eyes an instant. Reopened them and looked around him. Nobody around. He removed the eye patch. Slowly looked down at himself with his both eyes.

The red ouroborous tattoo on his eyeball was scary. It didn't had up with his aqua blue iris. If he forgot that, he guessed that he looked good. Well, not that he knew anything about beauty. He used to think of his sword as something beautiful. The sun was nice too. And the moon. The wind. He liked maps too. He never thought of the other candidates as nice looking. They rarely talked to each other. Getting friends with those rivals wouldn't do him any good. So he had lived alone, restrained behind walls for all of his life. And the question still lingered. Even if he knew everything about being a fuhrer, about using guns and swords and strategies, he felt so... So lost.

On an impulse, maybe coming from one of the souls crying within him, he tried to smile. It looked as creepy as those looks the scientists had for him when he won over another candidate. He tried again, to raise each side of his mouth, not too much. Why did he wanted to be able to smile? He knew he would have to pretend being human. And human were known for showing their emotions. Had he ever expressed anything else than utter concentration? His lips were thin and white from his anger.

This is what I am, he thought. An angry bundle of nerves unable to keep up his role.

And it was a role. Being a fuhrer. He had to learn. To get himself a wife and a house, and to pretend he had had a normal life. With a family. This word scared him. He still tried to remember what a wife was. It involved a woman. He knew the scientists laughed when they talked about women. He had no idea why. He had never seen one for real. Only in books. And somehow, everything about his education seemed lacking suddenly.

He heard people laughing in the background. Quickly put back his eye patch and looked up, still confused. Laughing. He knew the word. Knew the sound. Had laughed one time or two. Barely. He knew laughs could be comforting. The souls in his mind were telling him so.

He hardly believed them though. He'd never liked it when the scientists laughed. It meant more hard work. And even if he was ready to go through anything, he could feel fatigue and pain. A shiver ran through his spine.

"I'm still lost." He thought.

How he had always fought to be in control of everything around him... To no avail. A couple passed by him. He didn't look at them, gazing down at the water under the bridge. Feeling their presence was enough. He heard another laugh. It was soft and sweet, somehow, and a man's voice could never sound like that, he knew that much. So was it... a woman?

He looked over his shoulders, but the pair of human was already off on the other side of the bridge. He noticed a weird choice of clothing for one of the two people. Was that a dress? He shook his head. How could they send him in the world with still so many questions in his head? How could HE be so clueless? This was an insult to his fuhrer's powers.

He turned around and resumed to his walk, stuffing his fists in his pockets. The wind kept on toying with his locks. His reflection walked next to him in the glasses from shop's windows. His shadow followed him and disappeared consecutively as the lights changed. Street lamps, he thought. He fell in love with the feeling of this light. The sound of his boots on the stone's streets. It felt soothing and peaceful. The souls in his mind had been forced to silence, because he had threatened to kill the next person he'd met if they kept on yelling.

He could finally think clearly again.

And then his eye met something new in the scenery. Someone was standing in front of one shop, dusting off the ground around it with a broom. She –because it had to be a woman, given the attributes he could see despite her dress and long coat- was looking rather young, and had long brown hair. Her eyes were green and... There was a light in them he'd never seen anywhere else. Was that... he referred to his new souls... Could this be kindness?

He knew what the word meant. It was the quality of someone who was kind. Did it mean anything? He was puzzled. And scared. Because this girl, or woman, was looking quite different than anything he had picture in his mind before. He had met Lust. Her looks hadn't awaken anything within him. He had never learned to desire anything else than power. And even now, though something within him was touched just by the sight of this small human, off in her world of cleaning, he desired nothing but to regain power and control. Control over himself above all else!

"Hey you, woman!"

She jumped a little and looked around, her eyes widening. He stopped right in front of her shop, two or three feet away from her.

"Are you... are you talking to me?" she whispered, looking... surprised.

Bradley wondered why she seemed so shocked.

"Well, you're a woman right?"

He felt stupid, but he was just stating the obvious. And it wasn't obvious at all for him. Her green eyes showed him an emotion he recognized instantly. Anger. It felt almost reassuring.

"What... what's your problem?" she asked, putting her broom in front of her, as if to shield herself from him.

He hesitated. Why had he talked to her in the first place? To ascertain his hypothesis? He wanted to slap himself now. The souls in his head were laughing at him. And it made him even angrier. His mouth opened to speak up, but nothing came out. He needed help. But a future fuhrer wouldn't ask for help. He stared at the woman instead. Even if it was just with one eye, she noticed and got even angrier. Next thing he knew, she was slapping him in the face. He hadn't expected that, and he tumbled backward, barely keeping his balance. And to his own surprise, his cheek burned him.

His new souls stopped laughing. He looked back at her, shaken. Nobody had ever raised a hand against him. At least, not without any prevention. He had been training for years to fight, and still, this small human could reach him and surprise him. And instead of anger, he came back to his senses. This "woman" was one of his people. She had feelings and he had certainly said or did something wrong to get her mad. She wasn't Wrath. She was innocent. For the first time, he understood this word.

"I... I'm sorry." He heard himself saying.

He didn't know where this was coming. He had never said those three words. Or maybe once, but back when he was a child, if he did misbehave once; because he'd wanted to play instead of training and learning. He had forgotten the word "playing" since then. And suddenly, he felt as a child again, being lectured by his mom. The feeling was new and strange. He never had a mom or the need for one.

"I've been pretty rude, but I..."

"You're drunk, is that it?" she retorted.

"Drunk?" he repeated.

The young woman was looking at him with suspicion now.

"Maybe a little," he admitted with what he hoped was at least a weak smile. "I just got back from the countryside and I got lost."

"Are you a soldier?"

"More or less."

He looked around, to find something that could help him. This was his first talk with a normal human being. He didn't want to shame himself anymore than he'd already do. He read every signs and spotted the one on the building in front of which the woman had done her cleaning. Motel.

"I... I need somewhere to stay. Any place left here?"

"For jerks like you? Pffaa!"

She turned around, ready to walk back in the building. Bradley felt a mix of anger and panic within him. How could she treat him like that, he, the Fuhrer of his country? But at the same time, she didn't know who he was. All she knew was that he'd called her a woman and had stared at her as if she was the first girl he'd ever seen.

"Wait! We can't part like that. First I have to amend myself."

She looked over her shoulder, surprised. He looked sincere. And slightly desperate at the same time. At this moment, she had no idea how surprised he was himself.

"You're a really weird guy."

"I'd hate to leave a bad impression on you, miss. So please, give me a chance to get your forgiveness. How about... a dinner?"

_This ain't gonna work_, he thought to himself.

"You got some nerve, mister... Who are you anyway?"

"You can call me Bradley."

"Alright, Bradley. I'm Amelia. But it will be miss Amelia for you."

He nodded.

"You wanna stay here, but I bet you don't have any money on you, right?"

Blinking, he realized he had forgotten about that too when he had "run away" from Golden Tooth.

"So then, do you know how to cook, Bradley?"

Anger perked back up, but he chased it away. This girl, Amelia, she had some nerves too. It was hard to predict how she'd act. And somehow, he liked that.

To be continued...

So that's one chapter done. If you're interested in seeing more, reviews are really welcome! You can comment just to help me improve to. I hope I managed to make Bradley Bradley-like. It's such a headache to manage to decide how he is at this moment of his life. And yes, I named Mrs Bradley Amelia, because she needs a first name. And it's the only one I can think of. XD

See ya in next chapter then!


	2. Being Human

First I want to thank every reviewer and reading for stopping by. The update times will stay undetermined, since I'm a university student. Thanks for the observation of the segment sentences. I also do it in French and tend to forget not to do it. I hope you'll like this chapter! Have a nice time reading!

I chose you – Chapter 2

The first things he noticed inside the motel were the pictures on the wall. He had never seen such things. And the only thing he could think about it was that it looked nice. Nice. Another word he wasn't too used to. He wondered how many more of them he was going to discover...

"How do you like chicken, Bradley?"

"Hmmm..."

He didn't remember ever been ask if he liked the food he was given back at the institute. He knew it was some healthy food, though it tasted awful sometime. He had learned to swallow down most anything. He knew what was poisonous and what wasn't. He remembered disliking chicken, because the chickens served at the institute were too small and then, he would remain hungry. Being hungry wasn't nice. He had learned to live with starvation too, but he hated it.

"Should I be picky when I'm invited?" he retorted, trying to sound arrogant even if he still doubted himself.

He had learned many things, but was he cut out for such a situation?

"A yes or a no could have done the trick, you know?" she retorted, looking over her shoulder.

Her braid danced on her back. At first, Wrath had thought it was stupid to keep hair growing so long, but suddenly, he realized why it was for. It made her pretty. It was still stupid. But there weren't many pretty things in his world. And none was pretty in the same way as this girl. His blade was sharp and efficient. A map held lots of adventures, unknown things, and strategies to defeat the enemy. But this woman... She looked so alive. He liked how her braid moved from one side to the other as she walked, how it followed her moving hips. He had never seen a guy walking like that. It felt different also. Was it because of her shoes?

Bradley was totally puzzled. And the souls in his mind remained quiet; surprised by the way he was discovering the world. He was like a child for such simple things! A few of them laughed, but Wrath contained his anger at them. He was focusing on the here and now. This was his first test and he wanted to know if he could pass as a real human being. After all, he'd been one for most of his life!

He followed the woman into the kitchen. He had been in a kitchen before and remembered it as a laboratory. But here, everything was different. There were colors on the walls. Good smells in the air, smells he'd never tasted before. His good eye widened in surprise. How was it he could still feel so many things, when he was invincible? How could everything around him reach him so easily if he was...

"Do you have a tendency to zone out, Bradley?"

"What... no, I..."

His souls told him to lie quickly, to hide the truth. He tried to quiet them down, but they insisted and gathered on the right side of his head, creating a sudden pain in his right eye. He raised one hand to cover the black patch. And the lie came to him just like that.

_These souls are clever_, he thought.

"I'm still having trouble to adapt seeing things with only one eye." He sighed.

He didn't like the feeling he had he was complaining, but it wasn't an entire lie. Though, as Amelia's face whitened, he wondered if he'd chosen the wrong lie. Was she going to faint or something? Were humans really that weak?

"Oh, I'm sorry." She replied. "I'm being quite rude..."

"No need to apologize, miss Amelia."

She gave him a weak smile at the way he said her name. From the pirate who had yelled at her out on the street, he was turning into quite a gentleman. She wondered what that could be hiding. Did he yell out of pain back then? He looked so confused when she slapped him.

They stood in silence for a moment, contemplating each other, their mind filled with different question, till she turned around to face her oven and get busy with the cauldrons already fuming.

"Remember you're supposed to help with the dinner, right?"

He nodded by reflex, though she couldn't see him and walked up to stand before the counter, right next to her.

"What can I do?" he asked.

And though his souls were laughing at him, since he was lowering his glorious superior self to obey a simple human, he didn't feel mad. This was merely a test. And he was going to pass. He couldn't have it any other way.

She had him cutting a few vegetables. It was quite easy, since he was a king had manipulating any sort of blade. She talked about the temperature and the motel's clients. She had one anecdote on every person. And on every weather. He laughed as she explained how her umbrella had "run away" from her once, when the rain was pouring like ropes from the sky and how the wind was blowing. She mentioned having one hell of a cold from that. And his laugh died down a little as she mentioned it. His mind was running so fast, his brain was going to burn. Could he still catch a cold after all that he'd been through?

Amelia kept on talking. She talked a lot. At first, he thought it was pretty irritating. But then, as his souls were chattering together, commenting her features, her cooking, his own skill at peeling carrots and potatoes –which wasn't as easy as just cutting them- he realized listening to her unstoppable blabber had one big advantage. It seemed to shut out all the noise in his head. So he focused on her voice. Such a nice ring to this voice.

"Alright then, everything's ready!" Amelia said suddenly, clapping her hand together one time.

Bradley jumped at the noise. He had tried setting up the table as she'd instructed him, but he had no idea why they needed something else than a fork and a knife. And he also knew he was certainly putting the glasses on the wrong side or stuff. The scientists were supposed to give him his etiquette class after that he became Fuehrer...

Nevertheless, they sat in front of each other after that Amelia served every part of the meal in the dishes.

"Bon appétit!" she cheerfully said.

Bradley just stared at her, unable to believe that someone so lively existed. He didn't know if she was a normal human anymore. Was it his lack of knowledge over women, or was she anything but your average woman?

"Go on, dig in!" she then said, realizing he was waiting to attack the meal.

He took the hint. As he ate, he slowly forgot to think over all the new aspects to his homunculus body. He could still feel hunger, well, right about now. Would it wear off one day? He shrugged off the thought. At least, the chicken tasted good. And for once in his life, the company was nice.

"Everything's to your taste?"

He nodded, chewing down more chicken and potatoes.

"So you're a soldier? You're looking quite young."

"Oh, so being soldier involves being old?" he retorted.

He didn't know it, but he almost sounded humoristic as he said that.

She shook her head, smiling slightly, until that her smile turned upside down.

"It's just hard to see people running to their own deaths."

She said that without looking at him, and for an instant, Wrath was angry to lose her attention. But he didn't ask her why she would say something like that. Her petty reasons didn't interest him. He was here to test himself, not to get involved with humans that he would rule over later.

He kept on eating, slowly savouring every tastes of her cooking. He wasn't used to spices. It burned his tongue, but he liked it. Gosh, he was starting to like a great deal of stuff.

"You're not really talkative, Brad, are you?"

She had quickly taken the liberty of calling him Brad. Was it to get a reaction from him, or just because this woman easily become friendly? How could everything she did be a hint to something else? Why was he trying to interpret anything that she did?

'_Cause I need to understand her if I want to understand every other human..._ , he admitted to himself.

"I'm not a very... social guy." He said, looking terribly serious.

It was an understatement, but how else should he explain it? Was he supposed to talk? About what? What did human talked about usually?

"Ha ha ha!" she laughed. "Oh, I had understood that already. Ha ha ha ha!"

He frowned as she kept on laughing, because he couldn't understand what had been funny in his last sentence. Then, he realized her laughter wasn't looking as comfortable as before, and it turned into a cough. His souls stopped commenting the food and his dumb reactions to observe the scene. Her cough was getting persistent and seemed quite painful. She grabbed her throat and he looked down at the chicken in her plate, wondering...

_Did a bone take the wrong turn?_ , he wondered.

"I... it...argh!"

She got up, looking for air now, clearly strangling herself. Her chair fell back on the floor with a loud thud, as if to get Wrath back to reality.

Tears were coming out from her eyes from the pain in her throat and Bradley jolted to his feet. He acted on instinct, almost jumping to the other side of the room, so that he could stand behind the woman. His arms quickly got around her body and he joined his hands, to do the right pressure on her stomach. His souls told him not to exert too much strength, so that it wouldn't kill her. He growled to himself, and swung his joined hands under her ribcage. Two or three shots were enough to get her to spit out the chicken bone stuck in her throat. But he kept his arms around her, because she wouldn't have been able to stand.

She breathed in and out, swallowing back her tears, shivering next to him. He realized to his own surprise that he was out of breathe too, and that his heart was beating fast in his chest. Something within him, not the souls this time, was telling him that she could have died from this. And this was a scary thought. Humans were so fragile a single and puny bone could mean their end? But even so, wasn't she alive now? He could felt her warmth through her clothes. She smelled like some flowers he'd never smelled. His mind froze an instant. Flowers? Had he ever seen flowers in something else then books? No, there had been another time. A vague memory reached out, but the souls started yelling together, as if it scared them. He shut them up mentally, wondering if there was a way to get rid of them. He focused on Amelia, still in his arms.

She was slowly coming back to her senses. Looked up, still breathing heavily. Her hands fell on his arms. He had never felt such a soft skin brushing against his. And despite the surprise and the nice feeling it gave him inside, he didn't like the impression of losing control over himself. She was too close. And at the same time, he couldn't see any good reason to let her go. She leaned onto him as she breathed in and out.

"Oh my gosh... I scared myself for an instant."

She looked up at him, bending her head and he was stunned to see her smile.

"Thanks for rescuing me like this!" she whispered.

Her cheeks were red and Bradley could bet he was blushing too, though he had no idea why. Men, those scientists were going to have a whole lot of questions to answer him. Did becoming a homunculus mean turning into an idiot? He had always been brilliant, so why... why was he so helpless in front of this woman?

"It... it was my fault if you strangled yourself." He observed, looking away, but keeping her in his arms.

"You shouldn't react like that." She retorted. "I'll thank you if I want, and when someone does, you just acknowledge it by saying welcome. Stop acting so serious and stuck up. Loosen up a little."

"I... Just... WHAT are you?" he asked her.

She ignored his questions.

"Well, it was really gallant to save me, but could you let go of me now?"

"Why?"

"Well, cause it's embarrassing." She said under her breath, looking down.

He let her go, trying to understand why it could be embarrassing. She took a few steps away from him, just to feel freer and then, looked at him from over her shoulder.

"Well, let's try this again."

She turned on herself, clasped her hand together and bowed down to him.

"Thanks, Bradley."

His first reaction was a mix of pride and panic. Had he made a mistake by saving her? Had he become responsible of her or something? How did this country work, how did those people work? What exactly was going in her mind.

She stood up straight, staring at him intently. She was expecting a reaction to her thanks.

"I... It was nothing." He retorted, looking sideways.

He was still persuaded she didn't have to thank him. And it was weird being thanked. It was his first time ever. He knew it stood to be polite, but it was different. It was... honest. And it scared him.

"Aww, it's already better, but we still got work."

"We...? What work?"

"You said you weren't a very social guy! We're gonna fix that. With my teachings, you'll be able to approach someone the proper way and make friends. Since you're a soldier, you'll need friends to look after you."

_What... what is she going on about? Why does she care?_ He wondered, annoyance and excitement mixing together in his chest.

"You don't owe me anything..." he tried to say, so to be saved.

She looked like a stubborn woman and he wasn't sure if he wanted to remain in her company. She was maybe a little too lively for him. Or was that just his souls telling him to run for his life before that she got him in her trap. What trap, he wondered. The human who could trap King Bradley was certainly not born. He was the future ruler of the nation, a woman wasn't going to decide for him what to do or...

"I'll decide that. You're a weird guy, but you're kind. You were all lost when you arrived here. You're just back from the battlefield, right? You need to take some time for yourself, some time to heal up. You can stay here. You're a good cook. And you saved my life. That sure owed you one of our best room!"

At this point, he didn't know why he wanted to object anymore.

"So how about it, you help me in the kitchen, you keep me company and try to be a little more social and I'll feed you and give you a room for as long as you want to stay. How's that sound?"

_Alright, she's crazy_, he thought.

But he didn't mind. The souls had stopped whining, saying he was already lost beyond saving. And well, he was getting pretty good at being lost, so was that really something to worry about?

"If we skip the social part, I guess I could stay for a while."

Amelia smiled. And this time, Bradley smiled back without being surprised about it. Was it how it felt, being human? To be able to smile like that, without forcing it at all? To feel lighter inside? His souls remained silent.

"How about some dessert then?"

He refrained himself from asking it out loud, wondering once more: _A dessert? What's that?_

To be continued...

So now, it's time for reviews! ^^


	3. Low on Strings

Someone suggested me to put Grumman in this, (which really got me enthusiast) and as always, I had to check out a few things over him, because he was missing a first name, and I hate it when characters don't have a first name. Like in the case of Mrs Bradley, who can't be Mrs Bradley before a while... Well, as I was looking up stuff on FMAwiki I learned that Grumman was Hawkeye's grandfather! He's the father of her mother in fact, that's why they don't have the same name. The news still took me by surprise. I'm seriously considering to go get myself the artbooks of FMA manga now... I looked around for stuff over Mustang, because I had this awesome idea of what I'd do over his past (won't say anything about it), since I can play with that and show his parents in this fic, since Bradley is like, two times older than Roy. I already knew he was adopted by madam Xmas, but the fact she's his aunt from his father side makes it not as cool as it could have been for the idea I had in mind. Though it would explain a lot of stuff. Since I'm really intending to follow Hiromu Arakawa's ideas on this, I'm still a little puzzled as how I can pull it off. I'm sorry for the spoilers here and the one that should follow, but whenever I write a fic over FMA, there's bound to be nothing but that in it. XD

Oh, I also read that Bradley's philosopher stone was only bounded to one soul, which was his own, but in Brotherhood, he mentioned himself that so many souls died in him over the past, that he wasn't sure who he was anymore, himself, a mix of the left souls, or another one of them. Don't know if I understood well, but I'll keep the part about his souls talking to him. It's funny and sweet at the same time. ^^

Now then, thanks for reviewing, faving the fic and putting it in your alerts. I wish you'll have a nice time reading!

I chose you – Chapter 3

"You did what?"

Bradley had spent a whole week living at Amelia's motel before that the army managed to find him and took him back. He had willingly followed Envy, who was disguised as a soldier for the occasion. Parting from his hostess had been harder than expected, since he had grown fond of her smile, of her cooking lessons and of her suggestions about how he should live to be accepted by others. He had even made friends with a few humans. A baker, one grumpy janitor and a lady who had lost a son during the war.

He hadn't done much effort. Just being his cynical secretive self had worked. Amelia had congratulated him for those friends and for every achievements he made. It had made him so happy, he couldn't begin to understand how she could impact so much voer him. But he didn't care. He couldn't mind feeling happy. Even if the feeling was new and still terrifying.

"You lived amongst human? One week with those animals?" Envy hissed, unable to believe something so horrifying was even possible.

"Don't forget that Wrath was once a human himself. Not too long ago." Lust observed, sitting on Glutonny's left shoulder.

Envy raised his shoulders, shaking his head.

"But still, to run away from Father like that, just to enjoy himself with petty humans..."

The said father was sitting in the back of the room, in his throne, his back still attached to countless tubes and wires. It was only thanks to his awful training that Bradley could look at his "Father" and not get the creeps. 'Cause the blond bearded freak sure was creepy.

"I can see why he'd want to study his own kind. It's alright Wrath. It's quite funny in fact, that even if you inherited my ultimate anger, you can remain so calm. You'll make a good fuhrer when the time comes." Father said.

Bradley didn't move or react. He knew what a subordinate was supposed to do before his master. Even if having a master after all that he'd been through drove him mad with anger. He looked as impassive as his self-called Father.

Envy tried to calm himself, but he was rarely calm. It was so hard to stay quiet when there was so many things to envy to others and to hate.

"There's one thing I won't permit you, Wrath. If you run away from us and try to act as Greed did, we'll dispose of you. You'd better obey me. As long as you do, you'll be able to do the rest as you like. You're supposed to act as a human and as a soldier. You're gonna enter the army officially and you'll fight in the upcoming battles out on the front. You'll cover yourself in glory. And in a few years, when you'll fit the criteria, you'll be named Fuhrer."

_In a few years?_ Bradley thought to himself.

Now, this was infuriating! Hadn't he lived only for this one title all his life? Hadn't he already earned it? His expression must have changed for an instant, because Father noticed his anger and raised one hand.

"The humans can't change their leader in one single day. You've still got a lot to learn, Wrath, so keep yourself collected and work hard to achieve my goals."

Did the old man realize what he was saying was even more shocking? That HE had to work for someone else's goals? Where was his real gain in all of this? Where was the destiny painted for him, of a live, where he would rule over the world? He wanted it for himself. He had never been a pawn. Or well, he'd never wanted to be one. But when had he a choice in any matter? Even the clothes he was wearing had been chosen for him.

He swallowed down his pride, and everything that once made him human, standing lifeless before his "father". And if hate could be incarnated on earth, he had to be the closest thing to it. Because behind the cold look on his face, forged after years of never being smiled at and never having to smile at someone, beneath it laid so much anger, Bradley thought he could blow up if he dared to move. His souls were angrier than him, if it was possible, and their furious ramblings drove him even madder.

_Why am I your puppet?_ , he wanted to ask. But he kept it shut. Because he had been beaten to learn that keeping it shut was the only choice he had. Because being alive was his only real gift in this miserable life. And if he was so greater than other human, if he wanted to learn more and to live and experience more, the only thing to do was to agree with this blond freak.

_There's no rights in this world,_ Wrath thought. _There're only brutal feelings, rushing through my veins. And laws to bound me, to turn me into his slave. And as long as this man... this thing... will be my father, I'll be a slave. Dammit!_

"Alright Father. When do I get started?" he asked, faking a smile.

Envy looked surprised by Wrath's reaction. There was something, untrue about his expression. Something almost creepy in the way he closed his only eye, talking as if he was going off for a walk. This new homunculi was weird. It was the first time Father attached the stone to a real human after all. How could this turn out?

"Today, of course. The scientists will guide you. And if you're to stray, Envy will set you straight, with Lust's help."

Lust winked at Bradley, and for some reason, the young man felt something within him, close to repulsion. This over dimensioned woman felt so artificial. Her whole body called out for the desire of man, every of her poses and gestures. But more than lust, she exuded death. And King still feared death, even if he had seen it from close up more than once. After tasting the sweet and gentle presence of Amelia, he had tried to understand women in general. His first assumptions were that this specific type of human was simply unpredictable. All of them, without any exceptions. But they were still pretty different.

There were tall one and other that were smaller, thinner, or larger. Some were uglier to his taste, and other, like Amelia, could have him wrapped around their little finger with just a word. Well, up to now, Amelia was the only one with this much power over him. And he wasn't exactly her slave. He always chose to do whatever he did when he was with her. And it made her all the more special.

_You already miss her, moron_, his souls told him.

He denied them. He didn't know what missing meant. Had no use to miss anything, since he'd never been given anything, but shelter, education and food... What was more important than that? Freedom? Why was he getting all worked up on a silly notion?

...

Bradley walked into the barracks where a few real humans were already waiting for a mission to be given to their squad. He had been lectured by the guys in white, so called scientists, that he was starting to hate cordially. He slowly realized that quite anything could get him mad. The stings in the air shocked his noses. His sensibility or the accuracy of his senses was driving him crazy. He could see too many things, way too clearly. His earring seemed overdeveloped. He wanted to hide somewhere, where his senses wouldn't be stimulated, where he would be able to stand in peace and quiet. Like during this brief week he spent at Amelia's motel.

Being a homunculus wasn't only fun. And his tainted eye would hurt every now and then, whenever his souls got too worked up... He hated it. It felt as if he hated everything. And still, he forced himself to stay in control. Because everything was a question of control. This anger and this hatred wasn't only coming from his good old self. It was part of that creepy "Father" guy. If he could control it, then, he would be stronger than him, who had just dejected the feelings he had into new individuals he turned into his pawns.

In the barracks, he was first met by a tall blond man, with the hint of a moustache under his nose, but still way too young to have any hairs on his chest.

"Hey, you're the new guy from the war school, right? Bradley sir?"

First lesson he'd been lectured about was to present himself as a soldier, so he took his stance, straightening his back.

"Sergeant King Bradley, sir!" he barked back.

"Wow, they sure teach you to be uptight in the war school..." a guy laughed in the back.

Bradley wondered if he hadn't been clear enough, or if his yell hadn't been strong enough. He cleared his throat, not too sure of what he should think of other men. He had always seen them as rivals before. But these were comrades. So he had to see them otherwise, hadn't he? His head started to ache...

"I'm second lieutenant Grumman," the blond man presented himself with a slight nod of approval. "Our first lieutenant and leader is that weirdo sitting on the third bed, there. Lieutenant Kimblee."

"It's Wolfgang, for friends." The thin and dark-haired man said, grinning in a weird way.

Wrath wasn't sure if he should smile back or just remain stern. He chose the later.

"We're the only one here right now from the squad. The higher-ups are still selecting men to send with us out in front." Grumman mentioned.

"And they found'em!" a laughing voice said in his back.

He turned on his heels, furrowing his eyebrows. A young woman, about his age at least, was standing in a military uniform, giving them a proper salute, smiling at the same time.

"Sergeant Juliett Mustang, at your service, guys!"

Bradley noticed a ring shining on her ring finger, though he could only guess the meaning of such a jewel. He was more surprised by the fact a woman could be in the army. Weren't they better doing paperwork? There hadn't been any of them raised as perspective Fuehrer. And they could be so fragile, how could they be soldiers?

Grumman smiled for real this time, already charmed.

The woman was averagely framed, but her skin was cream white, and her dark eyes were determinate and strong. She had long dark hair, tied up in a bun behind her head. She had some kind of exotic look about her, with her slightly slanted eyes. She was cute, in a way. More familiar than the two men that were still rivals in Bradley's mind. Should he fear women?

_Of course you should, moron!_ His souls warned him.

He felt anger rising up again. Who do they think they were, calling him names? If he wasn't there, these petty souls wouldn't be able to talk or to see stuff.

Along the day, five more soldiers, all men, showed up to add themselves to the squad. Bradley learned they were the twelfth squad. 9 soldiers working under Kimblee's orders, who himself was obeying a lieutenant-general. They were to be sent at the borders, to fight against a country which tried to invade Amestris. Wrath knew, thanks to his "Father"; that this invasion had been caused by Envy alone, which seemed to be the trigger to every war that Amestris had seen through its upbringing. This war was a pure human extermination to make another crest of blood on the map of the country. A purge, more or less. Whoever died on either side didn't matter. All that was important was the number of victims. Millions of them were needed. And as he looked at his new comrades, Bradley tried to accept it. Those young people, not older than him, were all going to die. He was the only one who had to survive, since he had to become Fuehrer, so that his Father plan could be seen to right.

_Why do I feel this is wrong? Why do I feel so... small?_ , he wondered.

Grumman tapped him on the shoulder.

"News arrived. We're leaving tomorrow, first thing in the morning. If you have anywhere you want to go before that time, now's the time."

Bradley was surprised to see some of the guys leaving alone, saying they were going to see their girlfriend, or families. Five men decided to go drink together, to get to know each other better. Since he had no idea where to go himself, he followed them, thinking it would be a good chance to practice himself at getting along with real human.

...

Wrath discovered after five drinks that alcohol didn't fit him. He still jumped whenever someone tapped on his right shoulder, coming up on him from his blind side. His senses were growing dull from the drunken feeling and he didn't know any song the other guys were singing. Some of his souls were drunk already, just from the smell floating in the air. And it felt so lonely, even if he was with other people. Where was his place here? He was supposed to rule over them, but he was still working among them, preparing himself to risk his life, as any of them. He had no high rank, he was merely a sergeant, a nobody. He couldn't say where he was coming from or talk about childhood memories. Being slightly drunk made it harder to lie.

Before that things get out of control, he left, to walk out in the fresh night, so that his mind would clear up. He needed a change of scenery. He needed more time to collect his thoughts. He needed a whole lot of things that were all denied to him. Before that he knew it, his feet had walked all the way from the bar to Amelia's motel. He hadn't even plan to go there. It wasn't as if she was going to welcome him with arms wide open. He was a soldier, and she seemed to despise war. Even if she was nice with him, when he had left with Envy disguised as a soldier, she had looked... distant.

As if his thoughts had called her out, Amelia come out from the motel, and let out a small cry of surprise as she spotted him, standing right in front of the building.

"Brad! Why didn't you knock?"

"What... I... Should I've knocked?"

Why could she make him feel so unsure of himself? Why couldn't she just say hi?

"Oh, you weren't sure if you wanted to see me again, is that it?" she suggested, looking away, her eyes turning watery and her face pale.

And all those changes made his heart twinge, because all he wanted was to see her smile, so that all the rest could be bearable. And he felt stupid. Maybe was he stupid. Hadn't the obligation to be stronger than that? Shouldn't he have no care at all for what that woman thought?

"Why, yes... I meant... No! Wait, don't... don't try making fun of me!"

She laughed at his hasty reaction, before to walk up to him.

"You still have trouble guessing when people are joking Brad. You're way too serious for your own good."

"Don't tell me how I should be." He retorted, trying to regain composure.

She shook her head, before to replace his uniform which was untidy from drinking with the other soldiers.

"You've been drinking. You smell like alcohol. Does this mean you're leaving to fight?"

His throat went dry from the sudden proximity. Why was she acting so familiar with him? Was she like that with every other soldier she met? It couldn't be, after all, he had seen her with other guys, and she was way more distant with them. So why was he a special case? And why did he want to be special for her?

"My new squad is leaving for the front lines tomorrow." He admitted.

Her hands fell down to her side and she shivered, looking away from him.

"So you're really a soldier. You're going to fight and to kill people to defend us."

The way she said it, it sounded awful. As if he was a monster. And since he was, in human standards, it hurt him deeper than expected. Why did he care what she thought?

_We've warned you, but you didn't listen, homunculus!_ The souls retorted.

_I'm more than that,_ he wanted to yell. _I'm way more than that!_

But Amelia wouldn't understand and he couldn't have her fearing him. So he forced on a smile, and gently lifted her chin, with one of his fingers, so that she would look at him. Because never mind how panicked she may make him feel, he still could act in front of her. And he could face her wide green eyes.

"I didn't come to get pity from you. I don't want anything in fact", he added, his souls telling him that this could be misinterpreted. "I... Thank you for taking care of me during the last few days, Miss Amelia."

Her eyes widened from that and she blushed awfully, which made her look quite cute, cuter than Juliett Mustang in fact.

"Don't... don't mention it, it was nothing."

"Why are you blushing then?"

"Why aren't you still lost and blabbering Brad, instead of making me look like a fool!" she retorted.

But despite her faked anger, she smiled at him. That woman understood many things. Even if he didn't talk that much. And as he smiled to her, he knew it was a real smile, coming from his heart.

"It's thanks to you, Miss."

Her cheeks flushed even more.

"You're one weird guy, Brad. But you can call me Amelia now. Well, not right now, but if you come back from this war, you'll earn the right to!"

_We got a winner!_ The souls tried to cheer him.

Bradley barely heard them. He was too focused on smiling at Amelia.

"You're one weird woman yourself." He retorted, chuckling.

"Oh, I know that." She giggled.

And for the first time in his life, Bradley thought that he didn't want to go and fight.

"It's fun to see you can still laugh and smile even though you're one hell of a moody guy."

"I'm not moody!" he retorted.

"Well, moody or not, you'd better keep that smile of yours even after the war. Smiles ease pain. Laughing means you're alive."

_What is she going on about?_ He wondered.

"Miss Ame..."

"How long is this fight going to last?" she asked him, all back to serious suddenly.

"I don't know." He replied.

And though he wanted to strong sure of himself and strong, there was a frailty in his voice that hinted that leaving worried him.

"Then, try not to forget me."

"I don't think I could."

Her smile came back, weak and frail. And Bradley had to fight with himself not to open his arms and hug her. He wasn't sure he could leave if he did. He wasn't sure if she'd accept a hug from him, when they were only friends. Cause that was what this was, right?

"You're a good man, Bradley. Don't change, okay?"

_You don't know me, Amelia. I'm not sure to know myself anymore. But if that's a good man you see in me, I'm willing to be it. And I won't let anything change me anymore._

To be continued...

So that's about it. I'd really like to have reviews over this, to help me improve and keep up the fic. Seriously, reviews keep me writing! Otherwise, I'd like suggestion for Grumman's first name and more than all, your advice on this. Does Wrath regenerate himself or not? I had a discussion over it with my BF, and then, FMAwiki told me that Wrath is the only homonculus who doesn't regenerate himself. It would make sense, since he ages and must blend with other humans. Are you agree with that? So far, I didn't mention it, but I think it's gonna be important for what's coming up in the fic. XD

With all this said, see ya all in next chapter!


	4. War dogs

First things first, I gotta thank everybody who reviewed this and read this far. I'm really happy to entertain you with my Bradley-centric fic. I finally decided to name Grumman Eli, as one of the readers suggested. Sounds pretty good. It was hard to choose though and every suggestions were nice. ^^ I want to say here that I've made this chapter more over the war than over the evolution of Bradley's relationship with Amelia, but she'll still make an appearance. I really like having feedback over my work, so please, have a nice time reading and don't forget to review!

I chose you – Chapter 4

There had been only pain at first. That was what life was about, after all. Bradley remembered crying in protest though. So this went back to a long time ago. He tossed and turned in his sleep. The memories were strong, stronger than the nightmares from his numerous souls; because he was still one sole being. But in his dream, he felt betrayed. Attacked by everything surrounding him. This world was too cold. He wanted to go back in the warmth, where no light could reach him and hurt his eyes! He felt small. And it hurt, how it hurt, to breathe, to cry, to live!

Then the pain was eased by a presence he knew deeply, because it was the one who had given him birth. He couldn't tell where he touched her, but he could feel her warmth at new. He knew she was a she. Her voice told him so. She smelled like home. She was the only thing he knew in this life. And after the terrible fight they had fought for him to get out, peace was falling slowly, as he breathed in and out, accepting his surroundings.

"Hush, hush."

No idea what the voice meant with her words, but he loved her. He yawned with his own small voice and snuggled in his mother's embrace. His small eyes couldn't see far, but he saw something in a corner of the room as he blinked, readying himself to sleep. A window was showing him the blue sky from the outside world. There was a pot with a flower inside it. And he could smell its sweet scent. How good it smelled. How good it felt. Awaking to the world, like a flower. He smiled in his sleep. That was true peace. What had gone wrong after that day he barely remembered, in the back of his mind, so far back he wasn't sure if he could remember it still tomorrow morning? What had gone wrong? To think there had been a moment in his life when he belonged in this world. Or had he made it up since he was a child, just to feel better with himself?

_I once had a mother, like every other human. I once was human. And I still am. But something still feels wrong..._

...

Bradley was sitting in a trench, a gun in his left hand, his right hand clasped on his sword's hilt. It had been a month since they started fighting. He hadn't gotten a chance to get himself washed up for the last three weeks. He stanched of blood, sweat and dirt, like every of his comrades and enemies. It was late in the night. Too dark to see for human eyes, except his eyes were better. He had realized that he was more skilled than average human, but it wasn't thanks to the stone in his body. Since he had fought it so much, it hadn't given him all it could give. He had learned the hard way that taking a blow would hurt as much as it did before. He could survive it though. And he only had been shot once since the start of the fighting. Grumman had looked amazed that he could still stand and run and shot back at the enemies.

Even if they were fierce and persevered, the other soldiers amongst his squad weren't as good as him. The general sending them to fight always repeated that only the strong survived. And Bradley believed it. That was why, on the nine men of their squads, only four of them was left, including him. The lieutenant Kimblee and Grumman had held up pretty well and this Mustang girl was something else. She had the eyes of a killer and didn't laugh anymore, but hell, she packed a punch and she knew how to aim and fire. She often covered them while they would rush in the enemies' rank. When he had first pulled out his blade instead of a gun, she had mocked him.

Now, she realized he was so fast and strong that rushing in with his swords was way more deadly for the enemy's ranks than any of their old gun. He could take a whole army alone. And whenever he started to fight, Bradley finally felt that he belonged. His instincts would take over and he would live for real.

He could see farther than any man. His only eye was sharper. He was able to dodge bullets, though his comrades in arms said he was one hell of a lucky guy. He ran on the battlefield, like a madman. Dived between two tranches, rolling in the mud and dirt. He churned on his cheeks' inside, trying to muster his impatience. He wanted to move, to warm his body. He wanted to cut through flesh so that fewer enemies could fire back when he'd get up. And he wanted to get up, so that he could stop feeling his articulations aching under his weight. Sitting on his eels all day long was testing his overstrained muscles. He could endure the pain. Any pain was nothing compared to the stone ravaging his body, killing him and reconstructing him.

He still remembered. And he was almost greatful that most of his nightmares were about that terrible day when he became a human homunculus. Because he had seen his share of people dying. More than his share. And even if he told himself he would get used to it, he couldn't.

One day, their enemies had managed to get through their border and capture hostage, in a village from the frontier. Women and kids had been murdered, in inhuman ways. Walking among those corpses to find the foreign soldiers and get them had been a terrible test. The Mustang woman hadn't been able to hold back her tears. Grumman had looked shocked himself. Kimblee seemed to find it only another good reason to kill. And while Bradley tried to repeat himself that only the strong survived, and this was as thing should be, because those civilians were weak, and thus, dead... He was angry with himself. The women reminded him of Amelia. Amelia who was also weak, but who didn't deserve to die just for that. And what was logic about this? Because people were stranger, it was easier to see them senseless on the ground?

Bradley had never felt so close to break up. So this was what war was about. This was the true meaning of hatred, fear and unfairness. This feeling in his burning heart, this impression that there was no reason good enough to explain such slaughter. And he was even more disgusted, since he knew the petty reason his "Father" had. One thing wanted to become perfect. And that thing was ready to sacrifice everything around it, just to reach its goal. And he was an instrument in this grand and pathetic scheme.

It was at this point that Bradley decided thinking about it wasn't doing him much good. So he kept on fighting, as his three comrades and the other soldiers around him, for one sole reason. To survive, so a new day would come. A day without war, without blood, where he could stand without fear, and just forget everything...

"Is there someone waiting for you, back home?" a soldier asked their group, as they were sitting in the night, around a small fire.

It was too late to fight, and on either side, every soldier was way too exhausted to think of attacking.

"I got my husband." Juliett whispered. "Though I'm not sure he'll like what he's going to see when I'll be back."

"You're as pretty as you were when we left, Jul'." Grumman observed, winking at her.

"Yeah, somehow, I'm still in one piece after all that happened. Don't stare at me like that, Eli Grumman!"

"Still, to be married already, when you're so young! All the crazy nights of your young days, already gone!" Eli added, fake tears rolling down his cheeks.

"You're talking like an old man! What's the problem about being married? Lloyd is the man of my life." Juliett retorted, throwing a boot at Grumman's face.

He dodged it, of course, smiling and Bradley couldn't help but smile. These two were always fighting. Kimblee said it was their way of being friends. It felt odd. But it was nice too.

"She's as feisty as us, but she's still a lil' girl when it comes down to it." A soldier joked.

And they laughed, because they were all glad they could still talk about love and human things, even if this was war.

"What about that Lloyd huh? How did you met him?"

"Okay guys, get off my case! I told you all a week ago." Juliett observed, blushing slightly.

"She's right, someone else should tell us a good story. What about you, Bradley? Got someone waiting for you back home?"

They rarely wanted to hear about anything else. It was funny, how they were attached to this kind of detail. If a guy had a letter to write to his girlfriend, or his mother, everyone around the camp would make everything possible for the letter to be sent and received.

"Kind of..." was all he replied at first.

They rarely asked for his opinion, since he was still acting pretty cold, even if he was just as traumatized as every of them.

"Oh come on, man, that's something!"

"Look at this, look at him, Brad is blushing! That's gotta be a girl, then, I bet she's a cutie and she's all over his dark side!"

"What are you talking about?" Bradley protested.

What was that dark side that guy talked about? And why was he blushing furiously?

"Come on, tell us about her!"

"Well... She just asked me not to forget her, so..." he retorted, looking away.

For some reason, he couldn't resist the urge to answer them. To prove that in some way, he was normal, as every of them.

"Awww, she's sweet!"

"How come you never mentioned her before?"

"That's because... I don't want to think about her here..." he replied, as the guys were already starting to bet over naughty things about Bradley and the woman who wanted him to remember her.

Juliett, who was sitting right next to him, smiled and gave him a pat on the shoulder.

"You're a good man, Brad... I understand your feeling, but, still... You can dream of that girl, to help you go on. It's... all of this... It's pretty harder than I'd expected."

"Nobody ever said it would be easy." He retorted, surprised to hear the young woman confide anything at all to him.

She closed her eyes, forcing a smile. Her long hair was untied and floated in the air as a gush of wind blew over their little campfire.

"I don't want my husband to see me with those eyes. I thought I could create peace for the people to come..." she sighed.

"Peace will come, Juliett."

_Liar_, his souls whispered to him. _You know all too well what is coming. And it's far from peace._

He silenced them with threats, to be able to understand what the woman was muttering.

"After so much rain though..." she sighed before to look away.

And Bradley could see the teardrop running down her cheek before that her hair hid her face. And his heart twisted, because all she had wanted was so pure and fair. He was a part of the plan that caused this war. A part of the machination which was destroying each of their lives. And he tried to repeat himself, that as him, these humans were only pawns. That only the strong survived. But he trusted Juliett Mustang and Eli Grumman and even Kimblee with his life. When he would run into the enemy, they would fire with him; they would cover his escapes and his charges. They were part of his team. They were no rivals here, on the battlefield. He had learned many new words with them. Many new senses attached to every of this words. Friend... Foe... Pain... Loss...

He was slowly understanding the importance of strategy. The lack of strategy in their general's orders drove him mad. They were sent to butcher up the enemy soldiers, and they were butchered themselves.

_This war is taking place just for deaths to pile up, to crave another bloody crest on "Father's" map. We kill, and we kill and we kill, and in the end, it's killing all of us, inside..._ he thought to himself.

He was tired of fighting. He was tired of wondering over all the complicated stuff about human live. He was tired of hearing his souls commenting every part of his life. And he was tired of missing Amelia... He wanted to sit somewhere, forever, and to feel the wind picking him up, sending him somewhere far, far away, where the questions would stop to ring in his mind.

_Crying is a sign of weakness, right? Being tired is being weak. Feeling confused means we're already beaten up, ain't it? Then why are we winning our war? Because "father" decided it? Am I winning because I'm strong, or because I'm on their side? Why am I glad to see Grumman and Mustang coming back every time they leave for a mission I'm not taking myself? Why am I counting on them, when I never counted on anyone? Was I really independent one day in my life, after being kept as a hostage by the scientists who wanted me to become a fuehrer?_

The questions were numberless in Bradley's head. Their squad had advanced across the borders, reaching their enemy's country. They had invaded town and killed civilians, to get revenge for their own deaths. But though killing meant a brief sense of achievement, Bradley felt emptier with each people he massacred. His swords were covered with blood, and it was getting longer each night to clean them, before that he went to sleep. For each death he made, one of his souls vanished from his mind. He wasn't angry, but slowly, he was starting to realize these souls were good companions. He didn't want them all gone. Cause he would be left alone with the monster that he was.

But at least, his fellow soldiers showed him they had all the same look in their eyes. Being a murderer affected most humans in the same way. Regrets, fright and madness were mixing together in their nightmares, showing them all the pictures they wanted to erase from their life.

Bradley still enjoyed killing. But only the act of it. All the grieving for it, all the pain surrounding it, made it so harsh. He tried to change his attitude towards it. To repeat himself that someone dying, even under his hand, meant that this someone was a worthless weakling, whose existence was meaningless. He kept these thoughts to himself. Juliett would have punched him in the guts if he had said that out loud. But still, he couldn't entirely agree with himself. Only the strong lived. And he was still alive and he had to be the strongest. But they were times, outside of the battlefield, when he would feel so weak and frail. So close to break up. And at those time, he would think of Amelia, because he had to stay the confused guy he was back when he met her, since she had a liking to that guy. And he had to remain unchanged, even if all he wanted sometimes was to run his swords through his own flesh.

_I've lived my life this long, being a prisoner, being a pawn. If I get through this war, I'll get higher. I'll have the right to live in a better way. I'll be able to smell flowers again and to look at Amelia. And she'll make me smile._

In the end, Bradley understood why all the other soldiers were always talking of their families, girlfriends and friends, waiting back home. It was the only thing giving a sense to this constant fighting.

...

Weeks passed and then months. The winter went on, chilly and foggy, with corpses piling up under the snow. Bradley lived through it, untouched by the cold. Only death could reach him. He barely talked anymore. Half of his smile would show up to cheer up Juliett and he would greet only Grumman with a nod, when there was enough strength in his body for it. Their squad went through everything, and none of them died, until that spring arrived, and that finally, a ceasefire was called between both factions. Amestris had sustained heavy losses, but nothing as their invading enemies had.

"It's over men. I'll call your names, and then we'll pack up and go back to Central! Squad 12... Lieutenant Kimblee!"

"Here!"

"First Lieutenant Grumman?"

"Yes sir!"

"Sergeant Mustang?"

"Aye aye, sir!"

"Sergeant Bradley?"

"..." Wrath was wondering why he was still a mere sergeant after all that he'd been through. His souls kept on making fun of him about it and he was so busy shutting them up, he didn't answer at first, lost in his thoughts.

"Bradley?"

"Yes, sir!" the young man retorted, saluting impeccably.

"All right, bet you're all eager to pack your bags and take the train. Get moving men! You fought well! Amestris won't forget what you did for your country!"

...

"Who are you?" Bradley asked his reflection, as he stood before the mirror of his washroom.

The man looking at him had a few days beard, an empty eye and long hair. He had just walked out of the shower, finally managing to remove all the dirt and dried blood he was covered with since the beginning of the war. He had vomited once or twice. He still felt nauseous. He removed his patch, knowing that nobody would come to disturb him for once. His tattooed eye looked back at him, giving him the fierce look of a beast.

"I'm King Bradley." He tried, not too convinced himself. "I'm Wrath." He whispered a while later, running a tired hand through his wet hair. "But I don't feel angry anymore..."

He straightened himself, grabbing a pair of scissors. He couldn't go see Amelia like that. He needed to cut his hair. And to shave that beard. But as he raised his hands, they started to shake.

_Who are you ? _, his souls asked him.

"It's number 12. Or just Brad. Still pretty messed up." He hid his tattooed eye with one hand, trying to smile faintly. "Is that really me?" he asked the mirror. "Is it all that's left!"

And he felt anger again, rising up, but so faintly... He was thinner. All bones and muscles, and nerves. He felt so tensed he wondered why he hadn't already broken after having his left shoulder tapped by Grumman when they left the train station.

"I shouldn't go. Not like that. I'll scare her..."

His souls laughed, saying that it was all he deserved after all. And his anger grew so strong, he decided to prove them wrong.

An hour later, he was walking down Central streets, dressed in a simple black shirt and blue jeans. His hair was short and perfectly combed. The top of his shirt was unbuttoned, because tying anything around his neck made it seemingly hard to breathe. He hated himself for being weak. He threw dark looks at anybody that would stare at him and he was looking dark, so dark and gloomy. But as he arrived closer to the motel, his eye changed. His expression softened. The wind made him shiver. He blinked. Was Amelia still there? He knew the building belonged to her aunt, and she was working there to sent some money to her parents, living back in the country. He had no idea how to reach her if it wasn't by coming here.

She hadn't given him a phone number or an address. But as the last time, when he stopped in front of the door, she came out, as if being called out by his very presence. She had a bag under her arm though, so she had to be running an errand. Her eyes widened as she recognized him.

He looked the same. Except maybe from the bags under his eye, and the cut on his right cheek...

"Bradley! Is the war over?" she asked, walking up to him as quick possible with her long dress.

"For now." He replied.

She looked relieved, but worried at the same time.

"How did you cut yourself like that? Is it..."

"When I shave myself. My hands were shaking."

She had thought he had gotten hurt by soldiers, which had surely happened, but to here it was something so common that did that, she almost burst in laughter. Then again, his last comment, that his hands were shaking, made her realize that the change wasn't just in his appearance. His aura exuding something darker. If possible, he looked even more lost than before.

"You got shaved? For me?" she whispered in a flirty way, flapping her eyelids.

A smile crept over his face at that, warming her heart.

"It's nice to see you too, Amelia."

His voice hadn't changed. It was faint in the fresh air of newborn spring. But there was still strength and authority lying there, under the gentleness he kept only for her.

"You look awful you know."

"I know."

"I... I don't really know what to tell you Brad. You need a change of scenery, don't you? Do you want to talk?"

He shook his head. He was afraid to say too much if he let his mind free itself into words.

"But you didn't come just to say hi."

"Why should I come for, then?"

"I don't know... You have time now? I had an errand to run, but it can wait for a few hours. How about we take a little walk?"

"Sounds nice."

"Talking more won't kill you, you know."

"I don't wanna talk about that war. Or anything related to it."

Her smile was really warm and soft, though her eyes were filling with tears and she gently slipped one arm under his.

"You can talk about whatever you want, Bradley. As long as you're here."

He was half shocked by the proximity between them, but he didn't push her away. It was the last thing he wanted to do in fact. They started to walk, slowly adapting to each other pace.

"Say Amelia... Are you cheering up every lost soldier you meet?" he asked her.

"Only those with an eye patch." She retorted.

Bradley smile widened, filling with sunshine. And for once, his souls remained silent. Even after all that, he could still feel so human. And he was grateful to still be alive.

To be continued...

So that's about it for chapter 4. I find the ending a bit abrupt, but the chapter was long enough with all that. ^^ Hope you liked it! See ya in next chapter!


	5. Lost but not alone

Someone had me realize one important flaw in my timeline for this fic. It concerns Grumman. As I said in chapter 3 I think, Grumman is Hawkeye's grandfather. If Juliett Mustang is Roy's mother, than it mean Grumman has to be older than her. It could mean that he's slightly older than Bradley too, but well... I'll see to that in this chapter... or maybe the next after it. Will try editing older chapters to correct the one sentence that contradict what will happen here. Other then that, I gotta thank you all for reading, faving the story, adding it to your alert and most of all for reviewing. As you must have understood already, I like to exploit the psychological side of things. Somehow, I think it makes the story complex, but not as graphic as it could be, which is a good thing in my point of view. Anyway, have a nice time reading!

I chose you – Chapter 5

As he walked with Amelia, her arm still tucked under the crook of his, Bradley realized just how much he had missed her. They hadn't spent much time together, and he was still wondering why she had grown so interested in him. But just being with her made him feel so..._real_. He wasn't a perspective Fuhrer for her, nor a soldier. He was just a man. And this comforted him in a strange, indescribable way.

Amelia glanced at Bradley, taking notice of the thin clothing he wore. With a concerned tone in her voice, she started to question the manner of his attire. "Winter was pretty long this year... It's still quite cold and you're not dressed a lot. Aren't you cold?"

"I don't mind it," he retorted.

"You should button up your shirt."

"Amelia..."

"I know, I shouldn't be telling you what to do. But after surviving a war, it would be stupid to fall ill, don't you think?"

"Okay then."

They stopped by a nearby tailor's shop down the street and he bought himself a jacket to make her happy. Then, he helped her run her assigned errands for her aunt. While the two of them were shopping,they made small talk about things like retail pricing, the civilians wandering around the streets, and the weather. Amelia was only half into it, but she knew Bradley needed to relax his mind. He was still so tense. Whenever she would touch his shoulders by accident, he would jump. Only slightly, but that little cue was enough for her to notice that he was stressed.

Just walking with his back ramrod straight was a difficult task. Every time he heard cars rumbling by in the streets, he was reminded of the tanks in the war; how they would destroy everything in their path with a well-placed bombshell. It felt like a nightmare. Once he realized just where exactly his thoughts were going, Bradley was angry to realize how scared he was. He buried himself in silence, trying to focus on Amelia's voice to block out all the other noises. To forget the agonized screams resonating in his head - remnants from the battlefield. Why was he still so affected? Why couldn't he get over it? Bradley was so immersed in his thoughts that he didn't notice Amelia halting in her steps and turning to face him.

"Well then, I'm done with my errands. How about we go somewhere quieter then here?" the woman suggested.

Bradley was startled by the sudden change of pace. Caught off guard, he stuttered, "W-well, I don't want to keep you from your work..."

"My aunt will understand. And..." Here, Amelia paused."Though it may sound strange, I missed you, you know?"

He looked at her, taken by surprise this time. Did his heart just skip a few beats at her words, or was it just his mind playing tricks on him? Instead of smiling, she looked away, troubled to have confided her feelings. They were still mostly strangers to each other. And yet, she felt so close to him...

"Really, you did?" he asked.

She nodded, her lowered head brushing against his upper arm.

And Bradley wondered. What she could have been missing from his absence? He was just a weird and confused guy, trying to play it cool whenever he came around to visit her; or well, around anyone at all... He wanted to ask her directly about what she just said, but he was too shy. Instead, he silently manoeuvred his arm out of her grasp. Before giving Amelia time to respond to that, Bradley quickly wrapped it around her shoulders and brought her closer to his body. He was pretty nervous as he did so, but she didn't seem to mind. Indeed, she seemed to understand that it meant: "I missed you too" in his own convoluted language.

They had resumed walking, though in silence this time. Amelia was holding a portion of her luggage in front of her, while Wrath was carrying most of it on his right shoulder - his other arm was wrapped around her shoulders still.

"Brad..."

The aforementioned man gave a noncommittal grunt in reply. "Hmm?" Amelia continued on, reassured that he was listening.

"I think it's sad. I barely know you. If you leave another time, I wouldn't even know which name to mention if I want to have news about you..."

"Well... I shouldn't be sent back out before a while..."

"I know you don't want to talk about it, but... You're a soldier. I don't know why you became one, and at some points, there's no use asking it... But... You're someone nice."

"Why do you keep on saying that?" he cut her off. "What, exactly, is so nice about me?"

"Oh, I guess some people would say you look scary sometimes. But you're always willing to help, aren't you? When I ask you to cook dinner with me, you did. And you helped washing the motel, and with the shopping today and you show up every now and then, as if to make sure I was still around. Even if your mind is somewhere else, you're ready to hear out others. It's nice."

He wanted to reply with something caustic; he was most definitely not nice at all. He was always acting to serve his interests, wasn't he? What was nice about that? But then, memories of Juliett Mustang, when they were both at the Creta war camps, resurfaced in his mind. How he had wanted to comfort her when she was looking depressed. How he would smile to her whenever he felt his smile would look encouraging enough. And he was happy to get her to smile back. So _maybe_ a little corner of him tucked away somewhere was nice, despite all the harsh training he'd been through. Was it within him since his birth, or had it awakened due to Amelia's presence?

"Anyway, I don't actually want this to happen, but let's say you get hurt and they take you back to Central for treatment. How am I supposed to show up at your bedside, as a good friend would do, if I don't even know your whole name?"

He could tell she was using her acting against him once again. And it made him smile, because it was a part of her he couldn't help but love.

"I was named King Bradley." He sighed, noting the fact that Amelia had quickly moved to stifle some giggles. "But I don't really like the King in it... So keep on calling me Brad, alright?" She nodded in response, taking a few moments to regain her composure.

"Oh, I see." Amelia changed her tone to a gentler one after seeing the look on his face. "Well then, was it so hard?"

"No, of course not. I don't know what you're getting at anyway..."

"You're too hard on yourself. We never got acquainted correctly and it bugged me, I guess."

"What about you then? Can you give me a name or an address to reach you somehow if anything happens?"

"To reach me?" she repeated in a slightly amazed tone.

Glancing at her, he realized he should have chosen another word than "reach". She was getting pretty suspicious in a way he would probably never be ready to face, even if he had a few more decades of training. Grumman had tried to teach him a few things about girls, like how to show your interest in them. He said the most important thing was to control this interest so that it wouldn't be too much or too little. Bradley had no idea where these imaginary boundaries truly stood, but he guessed he had just crossed them.

He removed his arm from around her and backed away slightly.

"Well... you know, to send you a letter or something..." Bradley was fumbling around at this point, trying to piece together his shattered dignity.

She couldn't help but laugh at his startled reaction.

"Oh, don't panic just for that, Brad! Of course, I'll give you my address. It just..." She hesitated. "... surprised me that you would ask, that's all." Given that response, Bradley couldn't help but inquire about this.

"What's so surprising about it?"

"Stop being so nervous! Can't I be surprised? It's just... it's just funny, to think that you would want to write a letter for me."

"Okay then, keep mocking me like that, and I'll leave," he threatened, looking rather serious. Amelia looked rather startled by that declaration before realizing exactly what that meant.

"Wait, you can't! I won't be able to carry everything back to the motel!"

"I bet you can get any other guy to carry it for you, can't you?" Bradley barked out, feeling his anger slowly rising to a peak.

"Just what do you mean by this?" she retorted, raising her voice.

People started to stop and stare, since the pair had stopped to argue in the middle of the sidewalk.

"Sounds like a lover's quarrel," a group of passing teenagers whispered.

Bradley hadn't missed the fact that Amelia was nice to everyone she met. Alright, she was somewhat nicer with him until now, but he couldn't help but feel jealous whenever she directed her brilliant smile at other men. And she did so for every vendor and passerby they met! And he was sick of having her messing around with his confusion. It wasn't his fault if he said the wrong things sometimes; he was still trying to learn how to be a proper human!

Bradley was about to bark an answer at her, when he finally took notice of the gathering crowd of staring people. His throat suddenly went dry. He could face a whole troop of enemy soldiers without any fear, but being under the eyes of so many civilians in such a situation was different. He had no idea if he was right to be angry at Amelia. It was the first time he yelled at her for real since he had called her a woman from across the street.

_Alright, you're already getting yourself an audience because of her! Proud, Wrath? _His souls laughed at him. Ignoring them, he continued his speech.

"You think you got me all figured out, but you don't," he whispered to Amelia in a low tone.

After venting, his anger dissipated as fast as it had appeared. His shoulders were slumped over as he turned his back on her and started heading for the motel, shoving her groceries and stuff on his back.

"Let's just get you back home." He was tired of this.

He glared at the people who had halted their menial tasks to stare at them while they were arguing. Amelia quickly ran after him, even more surprised by his sudden change of action. It was only when the other civilians had scattered back to their own lives that she was able to catch up with him.

"Slow down, Brad! Come on, I wasn't mocking you, I was just... kidding, you know? You're too uptight for your own good. Loosen..."

"Loosen up a bit, is it what you were going to say?" he angrily interrupted. "You've already told me to do that twice. And I'd like to listen, but..."

The eye patch-wearing man halted his steps again, gazing up at the grey, cloudy sky. It was the same here as it had been on the battlefield; as if the fight was still on. Amelia barely avoided crashing into his backside due to the sudden change in motion. Taking advantage of the break, she bent down, hands resting on her knees, attempting to catch her breath.

"Why were you walking so fast? I've been running after you for..."

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to get angry at you..." Bradley had a regretful expression on his face as he turned around to, holding out his right hand to help her back up.

"I know, King."

At hearing this, he let go of her hand as if suddenly scalded by hot water.

"Don't call me that."

"It's a good name – definitely fits your royal looks!" she joked, winking at him. Bradley scowled at this remark.

"I don't have these so-called 'royal looks' you keep insisting on!" he retorted. Didn't he just tell her that he absolutely loathed his first name?

While he was brooding over that, Amelia just laughed at his petulant expression. "Here we go again! You're too easy to anger!"

It was as if he was struck by an invisible blow. Bradley's expression immediately softened at that; he then looked agitatedly down at his feet, like a young boy would do when scolded by his parents.

_This rage which isn't mine... it keeps culminating to the point where I want to destroy everything in sight. But Amelia is right. I have to modulate this temper. Otherwise, I'll lose her..._he thought.

"I'm sorry." It was all that he could say – maybe if he repeated that enough times, it would stick.

"Don't look so down!" Amelia told him, prodding the tip of his nose with her index finger so that he would look up. "But you should stop wondering why I joke so often with that attitude of yours. You react to every little thing I say!"

He would have protested if it wouldn't have proved her point.

"You mentioned somewhere quieter... Where did you want to go?" Bradley asked, hurriedly changing the subject.

...

After a brief stint of walking, the two reached a nearby park and sat on a bench overlooking the fountain in the central part of the square. Bradley had haphazardly shoved Amelia's shopping bags under the bench; for a moment, they just sat back and relaxed in silence. He wasn't exactly sure if the woman expected him to do anything for the occasion - it was his first time in a park. Left with no clear guidance on what to do, the soldier observed everything intently from the looming evergreen trees to the little trails of dust leaving faint circles in the grass. There were some small ponds situated in a few corners, all arranged in both a beautiful, symmetrical way; the fact that he could openly predict where everything would be was reassuring. The vibrant green grass was refreshingly clean, in comparison to the muddy and clogged trenches that still haunted his dreams. In addition to all of this, the sky had changed from its previous cloudy state to a strikingly vivid shade of blue. Birdsong was absolutely everywhere, since many of the flocks were migrating back from the south. Everything felt so alive. He gazed at Amelia.

She was sitting still, her head bent upwards and resting on the back of the bench. Her eyes were also closed, a peaceful smile blossoming across her face. To Bradley, Amelia looked like the perfect picture of serenity. He blinked and waited for her to change positions, but she remained like this - still smiling.

"What are you doing?" he asked the woman sitting next to him, bewildered.

Her smile only widened, but her eyes remained closed.

"I'm taking the sunshine in. It's so warm and relaxing. You should do it too," she suggested.

It was around midday and the sunlight was at its peak. Though, Bradley wasn't sure if staying still like this was really a good thing. With his eyes closed, he wouldn't be able to see any potential threats coming. And to openly expose his throat like this? He had learned at least twice that leaving any opening to the enemy was fatal. And he was still so tensed up; Bradley wasn't sure if he could relax at all, even with Amelia's presence next to him.

"Stop staring at me and try it," the aforementioned lady added, blushing slightly.

Since her eyes were still closed, he was starting to think she had some hidden powers. Or she understood him too well – most likely the latter. Sighing, he looked in front of him, the sun hitting him straight in the face. The sun's rays reflected off of the glistening streams of water from the fountain, which only amplified the beauty of the whole scene. So that was why she had chosen that bench... He tried to remind himself that they were in the middle of Central, that the war was at a halt and that no unforeseen enemy would jump out of nowhere. If any did, however, he would be ready anyway. Maybe he was still clueless about the ways of civilians, but he was an incredible soldier. Perhaps he had to have been slightly stupid too for going along with this. Regardless of that, he closed his uncovered eye and bent back his head, abandoning his face to the sun.

At first, Bradley could only see red from beneath his eyelid; then he realized his face was slowly warming up under the sun's rays. The impression was quite welcomed, since the air was still fresh. Nothing had felt that warm in a long time. As time passed, he progressively relaxed, his shoulders hanging lower. The soldier leaned back on the bench - as he did so, he felt Amelia slipping her arm under his. She was leaning on his side with her head on his shoulder, which immediately made him revert back to the tense state beforehand.

"Relax, Bradley," she reassured him, patting his shoulder reassuringly. "Breathe slowly. Empty your mind. Just exist for a moment, without thinking of anything." Amelia gave him a moment's pause to do so, before asking, "How does it feel?"

"It's... really nice... Though I have to ask, why are you leaning on me like this, Amelia?"

"Because I'm feeling tired..."

He felt her hand on his arm and her face pressing his shoulder through his coat and shirt. It made him feel so vulnerable yet important at the same time - he couldn't simply push her away.

"Tell me something about yourself, Bradley. Where are you from? How were your parents?"

Hearing those questions suddenly made his throat feel dry. He couldn't answer any of them. He had no parents and no place where he came from. No past, no story, no life. And for once, he didn't want to lie; it hurt because he was starting to hate lying to her.

"Think back to what makes you happy in life."

"Why do you ask?"

"Because I don't want you to force a smile to make me happy. I want it to be a real one, Brad."

As much as he didn't want to lie, he didn't want to disappoint her. So he quickly thought something up on the spot and hesitantly began his tale.

"I remember... my mother's voice. I lost my parents when I was really young, but I think... she used to sing."

"You love listening to singing?" Amelia was surprised. Bradley continued on.

"Juliett sung sometimes at our base camp."

"Juliett?" she repeated, suddenly aware of a rising feeling of uneasiness and a bit of jealousy; that little notion was squished once Bradley elaborated on that subject.

"She's one of the members from my squad. She's a real tomboy, but every now and then, she would sing when we were down and when there was no danger of doing so."

"She must be someone incredible."

"They all are."

"Tell me more over them."

He remained silent, realizing she was digging too deep in his life. When he started to think back on Juliett or Grumman, he would recall the others. The others he had tried to forget but couldn't. All the deaths...

"Amelia... I thought I'd said I wouldn't talk about this?"

"What if you need to?"

He turned his head to look at her, irritated to see how persistent she was. What made her believe that she knew better than him what he needed to talk about or not?

"Why don't you get off of my case for at least one moment? I'm alright, I'm not faking it!"

_Lying again, _the souls in his mind observed.

"… I think I'm scared," Amelia slowly replied after a hesitating pause. "If you really want to know why I'm so interested in you..." She paused again. "It's because you remind me of my brother. He was a soldier, just like you. The first time he came back from war, he was yelling at everyone and lashing out violently against everything around him. He made our mom cry and hide in his room. When I tried to talk some sense into him, he slapped me, so I gave him some time to quiet down. Later, I went back to see him. He was sleeping, and his pillows were wet from his tears. He was just a child back then: barely your age, Brad." At this point, Amelia took in a shuddering breath."He was so devastated. But he went back to fight and..."

Suddenly, Bradley saw sadness flicker over Amelia's pretty face. Tears were gathering at the corners of her eyes at the memory and he felt her trembling. He knew she was haunted by this memory. And he understood what had happened before she even completed her sentence:

"...he never came back."

Now there was a sudden knot forming in the back of his throat.

"Amelia..."

She quickly dried her tears, evading his gaze until she felt enough composure was regained to keep a straight face. Her green eyes were as sharp as daggers as she gazed directly at Bradley's face.

"I'm not always sure of what I'm doing, and I know I don't have every answer. But I think simple things are often the best things to have. And if you're lost, I want to help you find yourself."

"You don't know what you're saying. But before you get mad at me, I want to thank you for caring."

"Well... You saved my life, the first day we met. I still haven't paid you back for that," she observed.

_Oh, but you have, Amelia_, the man thought in silence. And as he thought that, he smiled at her. But instead of it being forced, this one was undoubtedly real.

"Say, could be that we're both lost?" he teasingly suggested.

After hearing her confide over her dead brother and knowing that she disliked both war and the military, he could understand why she'd be interested in a confused soldier like him. But would it mean that she'd be willing to get him out of the military? Because that could never happen. Even if it _was_ serving his "Father's" plan, he was going to become Fuhrer. He didn't train his whole life just to not achieve that goal.

"Maybe we are..." Amelia sighed.

She shivered and suddenly straightened herself up, surprising Bradley, who was thinking of wrapping one arm around her thin shoulders.

"Alright, enough about the sad thoughts! Clouds are starting to hide the sun again and I'm going to freeze! Let's move to warm ourselves up," she declared with enthusiasm. Bradley was amazed at how quickly she shifted moods.

"How can you do that?" he asked her, still in awe.

"Do what?"

"Jump from one emotion to the next?"

She shrugged her shoulders, almost in an indifferent manner.

"I just do it. No use of mourning all day, is there?"

_Instead of special powers, maybe she's just crazy_, his souls suggested.

"I guess..." he whispered, talking only to her.

He had given up on talking to the remaining souls sharing the rest of his body. They were slowly disappearing anyway, so why should he give a damn about their opinions? Bradley stood up from the bench, stretching as he did so.

He joined her for a leisurely stroll around the park. As they walked, each took turns in telling the other about little stories of their pasts, such as the places she used to go when she was a little girl, and his training in swordsmanship. Bradley was starting to think that he really needed to get himself some normal hobbies –he wanted to be able to talk with her over things not involving combat. As they kept on walking however, Wrath noticed Amelia was still trembling slightly from the cold. Her coat was way too thin for this type of weather; there was a spot on the left shoulder where it had been patched up. How hadn't he spotted it earlier? She was fussing so much about his clothing being too light that she didn't bother to deal with her own situation.

"Are you still cold?" he asked, concerned.

She nodded, biting her lower lip. He ceased walking; Amelia had taken a few more steps before stopping and turning around to see that he was removing his black woollen overcoat.

"Here," he stated, wrapping the jacket over her shoulders. Amelia started shaking her head, attempting to push off the extra cover. She couldn't accept this.

"Wait, you don't have to..."But Bradley simply ignored her protests and firmly buttoned up the coat around her small frame.

"I don't mind. Plus, after saving your life from that nefarious chicken bone, it would be bad for my reputation to let you catch a cold."

Amelia let out a jovial giggle, also finding herself blushing from the statement at the same time. Regardless, she wrapped the jacket tighter around her, delighted by its warmth.

"Thank you, Brad."

Unlike the previous times, he wasn't taken by surprise. Bradley shyly gave a hesitant half-smile, and he was encouraged to see Amelia returning the gesture. And it was as if time had stopped. The man found himself wanting this little intimate moment to last forever; it was almost shameful that he had to end it so soon by speaking out.

"You're welcome."

_Man, you're a lost cause_, his souls sighed.

_If I'm lost with her__, what's the problem? _And with that concise question, he shut them up, still smiling all the while.

To be continued...

So here is another chapter. As you may have realize, my English seems to have improve quite a bit, but it's all thanks to my new beta reader generalgeneric, whom I must thank for understanding just what I want to say and do the right corrections and help me putting the story in the style I wanted it to be... She's expanding my vocabulary, really. I hope I may learn from her to be able to right even better in the future.

Anyway, I have a question here for you readers, what did you think of this chapter? Have you an idea for a name for Hawkeye's mother? I'm going to bring her in the picture during next chapter, if everything goes right. ^^ other than that, reviews will be welcome to keep me writing and to keep me improving! See ya in next chapter then!


	6. Number 12

Hey there everyone, so here is chapter 6. Took some time, but I was very busy with school and all. Thankfully, generalgeneric really helped me by beta-reading it all, even if it was long and if there was work to be done. I want to thank everybody that reviewed, faved or put the story in his/her alert. It really encourage me into writing more. Here, Bradley will reflect some more but action is on the way. Have a nice time reading!

I chose you – Chapter 6

Bradley was trying to find a reason to keep Amelia with him for the rest of the day, until he suddenly saw her face twist with surprise and what he interpreted as fear - as if someone was sneaking up on him with a weapon, or even worse. He looked back to see a small object flying erratically toward his direction and instantly ducked the incoming projectile. As it passed over his head, the man saw that the object was only a harmless toy. Not that he would know what one was, for he never had toys of any sort. But since Bradley had been looking too high up, he didn't see the next thing run into his legs. Surprised at the impact, he looked down and saw a young human child; she had collapsed onto the ground from the collision.

"Oww, ow..." The small girl was wincing in pain while looking up at the intimidating man above her. "Oh, sorry mister! I was trying to catch up with my kite and I didn't watch carefully where I was running," she said with a trembling voice.

Bradley looked so stern and tall; she was afraid he was going to get angry at her.

"Poor little thing," Amelia whispered, walking up to the girl to help her up.

With quick motions, the woman brushed the dirt off from the child's small white dress and made sure she wasn't hurt. Bradley just stood back, not really used to see kids and a little shocked to see the girl easily snatching away his friend's attention from him.

The "poor little thing" had, along with the dress, a red wool overcoat with a matching red hat on her blond, curly hair. She looked so cute; it was hard to believe she was the daughter of the frazzled man who came running in their direction. He was a tall fellow with thick hair as blond as his moustache. A moustache that Bradley knew well enough - he was stunned to think the aforementioned man was a father.

The man came up to the group, frantically seizing the little girl's shoulders and inspecting her tattered state from head to toe. "Are you alright, Liz?" Liz meekly nodded in response.

He continued to look her over with a critical eye as he started apologizing to the other two adults. "I'm so sorry that my daughter ran into you, sir..." the man finally raised his head up and froze. He recognized the man his daughter had hit by accident!

Bradley was the first to talk, his voice hoarse from surprise and disbelief:

"Grumman?"

He had already recognized his former brother-in-arms, but he had to ask in order to make sure. This encounter was just too unexpected.

"Oh good lord, I wasn't expecting to meet you here Bradley..." Grumman sighed, looking rather annoyed.

"Daddy, my kite is stuck in the tree! And I torn my skirt when I fell, mommy is going to get mad at me for it! Daddy? Daddy!" the small girl snivelled, pouting and grabbing on her father's pants leg to draw his attention back to her.

Amelia stood back, understanding the two men were fellow soldiers. It was easy to read it in Grumman's stature.

"I'm sorry darling, I'll get you a new dress and your mom won't see a difference and..."

As the father-daughter pair was discussing the state of the child's clothing, one could easily see the resemblance between the two. Grumman's daughter had to have been around seven or eight years old. But since he had been fighting alongside the man for ages (or at least that's how long it felt like) and believed they were both around the same age, King was still under shock.

"Wait a minute!" Bradley interrupted him, ignoring the small girl. "You're a father? Just how old are you?"

"Don't go telling the others I'm an old geezer or something! I'm still young," the blond man protested.

"Daddy, I want my kite!"

The poor girl had tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, her voice also wavering. Bradley felt some sympathy for her, despite the fact that her pitchy voice annoyed him. From his own experience, he didn't know what it was like to have a father; however, since her dad was a soldier, she most likely didn't have much time to spend with him. And in the short moments she shared with her parent, he ended up ignoring her...

Amelia looked ready to say something harsh about them offending a lady's heart – or at least he was willing to bet she would say something like that. In the end, he decided to save the questions for later.

"Alright, young lady." Bradley sighed, directing his gaze at the small girl for the first time since Grumman had showed up in the picture. "Stop having a tantrum and start acting as a proper soldier. State your rank and make your order!"

"Rank?" She looked up at her dad, who simply smiled at the joke. This seemed to give her an idea because she looked back at Bradley with a mischievous grin. "I'm top general, Anna-Elizabeth Isabelle Grumman, and I order you, mister eye patch, to retrieve my kite from this tree!" she ordered, pointing at the tree behind him.

Bradley raised an eyebrow at the "mister eye patch" - that didn't sound as dignified as it should have been, but he guessed that Grumman hadn't had the occasion to raise his daughter properly due to his soldierly duties. The man performed a crisp salute toward the child, pretending to go along with her game. The growing smile on Amelia's face was enough a reward for losing a little dignity. Within a few moments of climbing, Bradley had clambered down the tree with the toy in hand. Soon after that, Anna-Elizabeth was merrily running around the park, her kite trailing behind her in the air.

The three adults had stood back, Grumman eying Bradley with a new sense of respect. The stern man had been able to bring back a smile on his daughter's face; something that he wasn't able to do. Amelia wasn't sure if she had a right to say something, since Bradley hadn't introduced her properly to his fellow soldier. She cleared her throat as politely as possible, and both man stopped observing the frolicking girl in order to turn their attention back to the young woman standing between them.

"Oh my...!" Grumman twisted his hands with pretended shame. "Where are my manners? I'm Second Lieutenant Eli Grumman, my fair miss. Your beauty is so pleasant that it just startled me right back into silence, you see?"

Amelia wasn't sure how to react to the compliment, humming a bit in response to the man's statement. Bradley glared at his so-called "friend"; he hoped Grumman would understand to keep his wandering eyes and hands to himself around the young woman.

"This is Amelia," Bradley whispered, forcing himself to restrain the amount of irritation in his voice - only because Amelia didn't warrant the need to be described with such a harsh tone. He went on, directing an apologetic look towards the young woman. "And I'm sorry to say this moron is one of the top officers in my squad."

"You hurt my feelings, Brad. Moron? It's fortunate that my little girl didn't hear you badmouthing her father..." Grumman paused for a moment, over-exaggerating a big grimace on his face. Both of the soldiers knew that the moustached man was feigning his indignation.

"Yeah, so she's really your daughter. So that brings me back to the question I had in mind a moment ago. How old are you?" Bradley asked again, this time willing to get an answer.

His persistence made Amelia giggle, but she forced herself to hide it as much as possible while Grumman was looking for a way to escape the question. He quickly gave up.

"I never said I was twenty years old. I said I was still young."

"You were teaching Juliett lessons for getting married at twenty years old, but didn't you do just the same thing?"

Grumman slightly reddened in his cheeks, which was a sight to behold; the man rarely expressed this sort of emotion. He quickly cleared his throat to get back some dignity but to no avail.

"I was young and quite foolish. I'm already divorced – which is terribly sad for Liz. To answer your question properly, Brad, I'm turning thirty one this year. I don't think Juliett was wrong in her aspirations; she seemed to absolutely adore her Lloyd when she left the barracks." He paused, letting the statement sink it. Then the man resumed his light-hearted, joking attitude: "But it broke my heart to believe that such a young girl's heart was already taken!"

This time, Amelia laughed openly. Bradley scowled. How could Grumman easily amuse her when he was doing his best to be nice and barely managing it?

"Daddy, look, look, it's flying, it's flying!" Anna-Elizabeth happily squealed as the wind currents picked up the kite and lifted it high in the air.

The wind kept on increasing until it grew so strong that Amelia had to hold onto her skirt to prevent it from turning upside down. For a moment, Bradley thought the little girl would be dragged into the sky by her colourful kite; fortunately, her father ran to help her when he saw the toy tugging too hard on her small hands. The couple stood back at a distance, looking at that beautiful father-daughter pair playing together.

"She's such a good kid. And it was really nice from you to retrieve her kite from that tree. Her father is nice, but I don't see him climbing up trees."

"What's wrong about climbing up trees?"

Amelia shook her head, as if he should have already seen the evidence in front of him.

"He's too classy for it. He's playing with his daughter around the park, but look at his clothes. There's nothing messy, no folds on his shirt or coat, no dirt, nothing."

Bradley's face darkened. He didn't like the fact that she was looking at Grumman so intently. And did that mean he wasn't classy? Just this morning, she said he had royal looks, and now he was a commoner compared to Grumman? He was too proud to say it, but his feelings were truly hurt.

"Okay," he retorted, barely hiding his jealousy.

"I'm sorry Brad; I didn't mean it in a bad way. It's manlier to climb up trees, though it's also somewhat boyish."

He only grunted in reply, and she bit her lower lip, trying to find a better way to express her sentiments.

"Oh Brad, come on, you know what I meant!"

The wind suddenly blew again so strongly that Liz cried with fear, and Bradley felt something hitting him in the back. It wasn't really hard, but he jumped from surprise; as he caught the object, he realized Amelia's packages had rolled out from under the bench.

"I think we might need to run," he sighed, a slight grin forming on his face.

Amelia furrowed her eyebrows, bemused by his comment until she saw another package roll with the wind, right past her.

"Oh no! I can't have this happening! My aunt's going to get mad if we return with none of the things she asked for!" she panicked, trying to catch the groceries rolling on the ground. She tumbled and fell on one of bag with a yelp of surprise - Bradley laughed, even though the chilly wind was seeping through his thin shirt.

She glared at him, but only for a moment, as they joined forces to get every bag and package in hand before the winds got any stronger. Grumman suggested giving them a lift back to Amelia's residence, since they had a lot of stuff to carry. Liz was holding back a few tears on the way to the car, for the rope of her kite had snapped from the winds; the toy was lost forever in the sky, according to her.

"I'm sure someone will find it," Amelia said, attempting to cheer Liz up, "they'll repair it and a new child like you may have fun playing with it."

"But I won't ever be able to play with it again, and I torn my skirt and mommy will..."

Bradley looked to the car roof, annoyed by her whining. In a way it made her cute, but he couldn't put up with it anymore. He had never whined once in his life. Not even when he was sick. Or maybe he did once, but as always, his memories told him what he wanted to hear.

"Come now, I'll sew it back up for you. She won't see any difference," Amelia offered, taking Anna-Elizabeth on her lap in order to repair her dress.

Bradley sat on the other side of the car, the packages forming a wall between them. It didn't really bother him, since he hadn't decided what to think about kids and their ways. What really disturbed him was the way Grumman was staring at him in the rear-view mirror: the fool was raising his eyebrows and pointing at Amelia with his head, winking at him ridiculously, and just smiling stupidly. Even a blind man would have known that something was up between the eye-patch-wearing man and the woman, since Bradley was just too stern to be able to put up with someone for more than a few hours outside the battlefield. But still, did he really deserve such a treatment just because he was acting friendly with one particular woman?

His pride wanted to say that nothing was going on between them, because it was the truth. It was still way too soon for a relationship - he still had to adapt to the fact that he wasn't entirely human. He had killed many people, and the slaughter wouldn't stop anytime soon. That fact that Amelia disliked war also made him uncomfortable around her presence.

…

When Bradley finally got back to his private quarters in the scientists' wing of the army barracks, his head was buzzing with new questions, hate for children that laughed and yelled and squealed with high-pitched voices, and his deepening affection for Amelia. How he could mix all that in his mind, he had no idea, but it sufficiently explained the headache he had. The man removed his cold clothing to change into warmer ones before flopping down backwards on his bed. Sleep arrived quickly for him, but it was snatched away just as abruptly by an extremely irritating voice.

"Morning, number Twelve!"

He grumbled in his sleep and tried to raise himself up on the bed, his hair a ruffled mess on his head. He had been dreaming, a nice dream for once, but he couldn't recall it thanks to Gold-tooth's disturbing face that greeted him for the umpteenth morning.

He'd rather be awakened by a tank's bombshell than this manic man.

"Hi, number Twelve! Ready for all your tests?"

Bradley never asked the doctor to stop calling him by a number anymore. The man was a lost cause, and Father had forbidden him to kill him out of anger (or to kill him at all) because he still needed his services.

_But that doesn't stop me from hating him_, Bradley mused, letting his wrath pervade his thoughts.

"It's too early today."

The dishevelled soldier let his head thump back onto the pillows. He had been sleeping so well for once; why did this moron have to barge in, screeching his old call-number in his ears? He wasn't a simple numeral in the system anymore: he was King Bradley. Though, it was still somewhat difficult to actually go by that sometimes.

"I've heard you were getting pretty interested in one peculiar woman, Twelve. She's rubbing off on you, I assume, because you shouldn't be sassing me. You're still a perspective Fuhrer, not the real deal. You still need our help, _boy_." The last word was spoken in a sneering tone.

Twelve. Boy. That wasn't him. That just _couldn't_ be him. Bradley forced his mind not to listen and block out everything the Gold-Toothed Doctor was saying.

"Yes, that Amelia could be considered attractive, but she's not of your rank - you know that, right?"

He stirred back up to attention as the man listed Amelia's beloved name. How did they know? He had never mentioned her around them, never really mentioned her at all, except when the war was still on. And there were only trustable comrades with him at that time. Or were there Father's spies among them? Envy could have been there. Gold-tooth could actually be Envy in disguise. He loathed Envy. But he breathed in heavily to check the scent of the being in front of him, and it was the old man's smell - not the monster's that Father called his brother.

"You've still got years of work ahead of you before you can take the spot of Fuhrer. But right now, getting a good wife with the right pedigree is something you should think about. At this time, you have absolutely nothing but your looks and strength as attractors." The doctor sneered at Bradley, showing the gaps between his teeth. Bradley was tempted to slaughter him right there and then, regardless of rules.

"So here, take a look at your potential wives." He added, throwing a file case onto Bradley's bed. Pictures and data spilled out of the open files, all of them women's pictures with their names, parents in the army, and fortunes that they would inherit. Some of them were twice his age. Bradley quickly averted his eyes from the piles of photos, refusing to even consider choosing someone so important in his life on a whim like this.

"You can choose one among them, so get what you want from that Amelia and forget her quickly. Our plans need to get in motion," Gold-tooth said, his eyes shifting in various different directions.

Bradley glared at him, knowing he couldn't expect anything else than caustic comments about his actions. But he would definitely not accept the doctor including Amelia in those insults. And slowly, but surely, he took in the terrible reality of his life. If his relationship got any more serious with Amelia, who he wanted to protect at all costs, he would drag her into danger just by wanting her by his side. His souls laughed at him.

_We already knew it would happen_, the souls mocked. _Aren't you supposed to be brilliant, Wrath, or did you just realize that? It was bound to happen. So stop seeing that woman before that you bring her more trouble than good. She's a nice girl. She doesn't need to suffer._

And Bradley knew it; he hadn't been thinking farther ahead lately. But seeing the pictures of all the potential wives for him, the prospective Fuhrer, put everything into a new perspective.

"What if I object with this selection?" he asked.

"Oh, if you're not the Fuhrer in twenty years, all my life's work will have been for nothing. And it's sad you know, because the other, still-living Fuhrer candidates aren't in any shape to take your place. Though this place mainly involves itself with your capabilities on the battlefield and within the army, there's more to it. It's a little like royalty, but what would you know about it, huh?"

The Gold-Toothed Doctor chuckled, his eyes brightening suddenly.

"Oh, I know. I have something to show you. Get up, Twelve."

Bradley wasn't sure if he was going to like it, but he was fully awake now in any case - so he stood up from the bedside and followed the doctor's lead. He would have to endure their examination tests afterwards anyway.

"Since you're number twelve, what do you think we did with the survivors?"

Bradley shivered at the thought. He had forgotten about the existences of his fellow Fuhrer aspirants. Sometimes, he tried to convince himself that they never existed at all and that it had all been a nightmare. The soldier never wondered over this question; in his case, he was too busy trying to understand and mimic normal human behavior. He'd managed so far.

"You and the other scientists turned them into normal soldiers?"

"So that they would kill you when your back's turned?" Gold-tooth laughed. "Oh no, we've prepared them for dire circumstances. And if you fail your duties but somehow survive the aftermath, you'll have the same fate, Twelve."

The two men stopped in front of a huge, twenty-foot tall steel door, deep under the labs of Central's HQ. Gold-tooth had an infuriatingly smug look on his wrinkled face, and his constant stare forced Bradley to maintain his vigilance and a veil of impassibility. He wasn't going to let the man in front of him see that he was alarmed. No way would he be moved by any threats from that man.

Gold-tooth pressed on one particular spot of the wall next to the door, and it slowly swung open with a thudding sound. He extended one arm inside, in order to invite Bradley in first. Could it be a trap? The man immediately brushed away the thought; he had the Ultimate Eye, he was a homunculus, and he couldn't be simply disposed of like trash. He still had everything to prove. Taking in a slight breath, Bradley walked in.

His eyes widened as he recognized the dormitory where he used to room together with the other trainees. The metallic bed-frames were aligned in two rows. A few night tables stood between them, but some of them were broken to pieces. The inhabitants occupying the room, either sitting on the beds or on the floor, looked up as he walked in.

Bradley recognized them. But worse, they seemed to recognize him. He had fenced with them. He had trained at fighting with them. Everything he knew, they knew it. And now, he was more important; he was different, higher. Still whole. He could tell something had changed about them. A few of them stood up or screeched out at his side, but the rest remained still, their eyes slightly widening or their neck cracking as they moved too quickly. Their eyes were empty of purpose – all of them looked like a bunch of lifeless puppets waiting for their master. Their skin was all grey from living underground for the last year. None of them were talking when he had entered; none of them were saying a word right now. They were just waiting.

Bradley felt it was wrong, he felt it in his bones and in his blood and he wanted to run away, but he couldn't. He had to prove himself and to disguise his fear. In fact, he had to disguise everything.

"What happened with them?"

"When they heard they wouldn't even be tested to become Fuhrer, they got a little mad. We... had to do some brain-rotting to turn them into perfect slaves."

Brain-rot? Was it literal or just another way of talking about an alchemical experiment? Whatever it meant, nothing stopped the fact that the men before him were lifeless. One of them was rocking to and fro absentmindedly, staring into space. Another one was banging his head on the cracked concrete wall, slowly, repeatedly. The noise got on Bradley's nerves. He felt his stomach churn as he saw the life filled with monotony that could have possibly been his.

"What do they do?" he asked roughly – he couldn't avert his eyes from the scenes in front of him.

His voice sounded too strong, _alive_ in that room filled with living corpses waiting for orders, staring at him with disapproval in their eyes: as if something deep within them told them they couldn't like this man. He had stolen so much from each of them. It could have been any of them out in the human world, taking strolls with Amelia. But it was him. It was him, and how he was glad!

"Nothing. They train to keep in shape, they eat, and they run around through underground tunnels. They fight with chimeras. But the rest of the time, they idly wait for orders. However, they can't stand not moving for hours, so they end up doing idiotic actions. This one has been banging his head to that wall for two days now, but he'll still be in perfect shape for fighting. A testament to my immense scientific genius. Though his face will look bit weird, but well, who cares?"

_I do. But why should I, huh?_ Bradley thought bitterly.

"Who do they fight? What orders can you give them?"

"Oh, if any trespassers were to find the deepest secrets of our little organization, they would be our safeguards to prevent them from escaping. They're my lovely bodyguards. So, what do you think, Twelve? Want to see them in action?"

No, he didn't want to. He was attempting to calm down his breathing, despite all his efforts of staying calm and indifferent. What was this madness? Had he been raised for that? Luckily, he never knew failure due to his skill. But, in the off-chance of him _actually_ failing, would this have been his life? Bradley realized the answer was yes. And with that arose another terrible question; why him more than any of them? Every one of them was owed an Amelia to help them adapt in this world. Every single of them had worked hard to the bone (though he had worked harder). Maybe these were all comforting lies him. Wasn't he replaceable after all, just as the eleven first prospective candidates had been disposed of?

He remembered their corpses, all haphazardly tossed into a side room and piled together until he came and succeeded at containing the stone. He could also remember all of the torturous experiments that the scientists would create in order to enhance their performances. And even though he was a grizzled war-veteran who had seen all sorts of terrible things in life, Bradley retched. Stumbling over himself, the frazzled man shoved away Gold-tooth out of his path and dashed out of the labs, out of the headquarters, and out of this madness that had always been his life.

_I was stronger than them. It's because I was stronger that I went through it all, it's because I'm better and..._ Bradley kept attempting to convince himself of his self-worth.

He hated it.

_This will never happen to me, whatever they did to them, I'll never be..._

But wasn't he already a slave? His mission was to become Fuhrer in order to cover up his Father's plans and carve a transmutation circle of blood around the country, until the whole population could be entirely sacrificed for one man. Amestris would be sacrificed with Amelia, annoying Grumman and his daughter, Juliett, the other prospective Fuhrers... he himself would be sacrificed too in the end, he guessed.

The man tried to relax, wanting to shut away all these stray thoughts. What good would it do him to philosophize over such things?

_I don't want to die. I don't want Amelia to be hurt. I don't want to work for anyone else than myself. I never asked for any of this. But I'm stuck, aren't I?_ he thought, leaning with his back against the brick wall outside of the underground barracks.

_You sure are, man. So. What will you do?_ the many different souls in his Philosopher's Stone chorused.

Bradley's own soul quivered, crushed beneath the rising fear and anger from the other belligerent spirits.

_I'll become Fuhrer. I'll show them that I'm more than just a number or a king. I've also realized it's more beneficial for me in the long run if I take longer to run_, he admitted to himself, looking toward the sun setting over the horizon.

_Why so?_

_There are still some things I want to live through. Yes, life is decided on a set course for me, but it's my own journey, isn't it? So I'll enjoy it. Even if they try to scare me off and threaten me, I'm stronger than all the others. I have ambition. Drive. They don't, and that makes them the weaker force in the end._

To be continued...

Reviews are welcome as always. Plz review to have me writing faster. ^_^


	7. Sick wonders

Comments for the chapter will follow at the end. Thanks in advance for reading it. It means a lot! ^^

I chose you – Chapter 7

"Alright Bradley, now it's time for papercrap!"

Kimblee had a wide smile on his face, wider than it should be permitted to a human's mouth to extend as he dropped a tremendous pile of paper sheets on Bradley's desk.

They were standing in their barracks' office, where each soldier who had survived the last war had an assigned desk and all the work related to it... Juliett had finished early, while Grumman was away on a new "adventure" as he would call it. Wrath had just walked in, since he had been running tests with his army of scientists to make sure that he was still perfectly in shape. Which he was, of course. Except his throat hurt a little and his mind was foggy, as if his head couldn't stop from hurting, but he put it all on the fact he hadn't seen Amelia for two weeks with all the training he'd been put through. Amestris was getting new methods for wars. And he had to learn them all, of course.

"Time for what?" asked the young soldier, thinking his ears were failing him.

"Meant paperwork, sergeant. You've been slacking off lately, so there is tons of it!"

Bradley understood just with the look in Kimblee's golden eyes that it was more the whole squad who had been slacking over it. It became a certainty for him as three other piles of paper joined the first one.

"Well then, enjoy yourself!" Kimblee said with his awfully cheerful tone.

Bradley had no idea how the guy could smile and look nice on the outside and chill him to the bones with his twisted attitude, but he wanted to be able to do something like that if just once! A smile that could scare the crap out of people! He was pretty sure he could manage that.

With a sigh, he started filling in the forms and paper that both Kimblee and Grumman had refused to complete. To think he was obliged to lower himself to do some petty paperwork, him, a prospective Fuhrer!

_Since when did you become so wicked, Wrath?_ His souls inquired him.

_I'm getting bored of being the one they're messing around with. When I'll be Fuhrer, people will see me for what I am. A force to be reckoned with,_ he mentally replied.

_You should try on your sweet Amelia_, the souls laughed.

His pen froze before the page and a drop of ink stained the white sheet. He'd never want to scare Amelia. What would she think of him if she knew though that... he wasn't as nice with other people as he was with her? Had he just nurtured evil thoughts? Okay, he was no angel, but to think about scaring the crap out of people just to avenge him for what he'd been going through? Of course, he could be scary. He remembered the look in his enemies' eyes. He could never forget. But somehow, being far from the battlefield for all these weeks had made it feel different.

Bradley ran one of his hands through his hair. Was this sudden urge of becoming scarier than Kimblee one day due to his homunculus' nature, or to the bat treatment he had endured for his whole life? Or was it already within him from the start? Amelia kept on saying how nice he was, but he couldn't seem to understand why. When she wasn't around, he barely showed any kindness. There was no good reason to do so anyway...

When he wasn't with Amelia, the only people he met were the gang of scientists from his life in the lab, or his fellow soldiers. The first were despicable and the last, well, he still had trouble understanding them.

Grumman was nice to hang around with, but since Bradley had understood how the young officer tried to hide his family, as if he was ashamed of it... He had trouble with that part of the man. He was a good soldier, but what man in his right mind would try to hide and reject his family when he had one? To be honest, Bradley was awfully jealous.

But that wasn't his only problem. His "Father" had summoned him and he was supposed to meet him in his underground base later in the day. The last thing King wanted was to get a speech over his part to play in the terrifying blond man's plan, or to be told of what he should or shouldn't do.

He focused on the paperwork to forget about his Father. Unfortunately, the office's door cracked opened and a pair of high heels foothold started hammering the wooded floor. His eyebrows rose in surprise before that he glanced at the woman walking in. Her dress' cleavage was outrageous and he couldn't believe she dared to walk around in open day like this, with the risk of being seen by any normal soldier which wasn't a member of their organization.

Her wavy hair was as dark as his, and somehow, he wondered why all homunculi had dark hair. He had seen Greed's picture and Glutonny was bald, and even Sloth was dark-haired. It was the only resemblance they shared with the ouroborous tattoo. The only way he could accept to call them his brothers and sister.

"What are you doing here, Lust?"

"Oh, I just wanted to see how our new recruit was going. You know, this uniform really flatters you." She whispered with a seductive voice.

He blinked once and as she sat on his desk, pushing the pile of paper sheets aside so that she could show him her curved hips –and well, all that he could guess that was under her black dress-, he blinked a second time. What was going on here? Was she testing him? Was she really Lust or was it Envy? Envy loved messing around with him, showing up as anyone he knew just to make him jump as he would change his voice suddenly. But she didn't smell like Envy. He didn't like her scent either. There was something musky about it, as a strange moister in the air. Decaying was the only word in his mind for an instant.

"You don't like compliments, Wrath?" she sneered, a mocking smile on her perfect lips.

"I don't like having you sitting on my desk like a whore. I don't care about what you think of me." he acidly retorted.

Her smile faded one instant, but then she crossed her legs and pushed in his stomach with her heel, grinning wildly.

"You're so independent, young man. Do you think you know everything? The other soldiers would be delighted just to have me looking at them."

"Then go look at them all you want, I've got work!" he barked, removing her feet from him and pushing her aside. If she had to insist, he was going to draw his blade and show her the exit the hard way.

Lust got up and walked around the office casually, as if she was taking a stroll which revolved around him. Bradley obstinately remained sitting at his desk, doing his best to ignore her high heels clicking on the floor. She stopped eventually and he felt her hands on his shoulders. And hell, his body was reacting already, before that she leaned down to him:

"This work isn't worthy of you, or is it?" she whispered to his ear on his blind side.

He felt his anger reacting, but contained it, shoving her away by bracing himself.

"If you want something, just say it!" he growled, scattering the paper sheets as he got up too quickly and swiftly turned around to glare at her.

She gave him a dirty look and though still innocent on many things about life, he could tell it was dirty.

"I should be the one saying that."

It would be a lie to say that Bradley didn't find Lust attractive. _In a morbid way._ She scared him as much as she could be fascinating to stare at. He hardly gulped down, scowling to hide his blush. He wasn't going to let her pervade him. His sin was Wrath and how angry he felt at her for treating him like a weak, "tentationable" man. But his throat was dry and his mind foggy.

Choke on your words, bitch, he thought. Run back to your Father and give me some air.

His throat was dry as sandpaper, but he still managed to laugh at her:

"Oh come on. Don't think too highly of yourself, Lust."

This time, her cocky smile turned upside down and her red eyes became icy, like shards of philosopher stone, darted at him. She crossed her arms in front of her too big chest, raising one doubtful brow.

"I think you're the one overestimating himself, Wrath. Rejecting me ain't clever."

"Dealing with you isn't clever. We're not enemies, but we're not friends nor comrads. You're my so called "sister". So act like one and let me live in peace." He suggested on a more conciliating tone.

She could have bite back, but she accepted the compromise with a pout. And damn, she looked sexy even when she was grimacing.

"So, you're brighter than you look, young man. But don't think I'll call you my brother just for that. You still have to prove yourself," she observed before to throw her hair over her shoulder and walked to the door.

Before that she exited the room, she looked back and winked at him, as if to mean she could come back if he was a good boy. He swallowed his own saliva as the door closed behind her. He remembered the soldiers talking of what they'll do to their girlfriend once they would be back home. And his face flushed since there was no one to see it anymore. Had he made the right decision just now?

He sat back in his chair, trying to focus back on his paperwork. Had he just been tested? After all, he was meeting "father" in the afternoon. He'd rather meet Amelia, but the army was keeping him busy. And he didn't want to go and see her with the picture of Lust winking at him still fresh in his mind.

It took him the whole next two hours to complete his work and he barely ate anything, bored to see how this day of his life was going nowhere. He just wanted to escape, to be able to live something meaningful. He liked the army's routine, because it was familiar, but he yearned for more.

He wanted to see Juliett more often, and Amelia. And to trust a man, other than Grumman or Kimblee. It would feel good, to have informal friends. Real people, that didn't want to use him as a tool or a sacrificial pawn. He didn't need it, but he knew now it wouldn't be as hard if he had some real support. He needed to get some if just to stop talking about the military with Amelia.

And he was going to keep on seeing her even if it meant endangering her. He was strong enough to protect her. Then, he felt something disrupting his thoughts, slowly, and he couldn't make out the words on the paper anymore. His throat and his head hurt, but up till now, he had thought it was the reading and the lack of water.

He sneezed and wiped his nose with his sleeve, mad at the idea he was falling ill. Because he was falling ill, he could tell as much.

_Why?_ His souls asked.

Because his mind was still a maze and his eyes had trouble seeing clearly and his hands were shaking as if it was suddenly cold in the room. It couldn't be that cold, not so quickly. He sneezed again, before to growl with anger. It really was a good idea to reject Lust now, his practical mind was comforting his ego on the question. To think he was going to meet Father in that sorry state. He already wanted to ditch on that meeting, but he was way too proud to do so.

...

It revealed to be a pain to stand still on his weakening legs to listen to his master ranting over what should be done and undone.

"First, I planned for you to become an instructor. You already have good experience. In the next three years, you should become liked and respected enough to be promoted to a trainer. You've already trained new soldiers, but I want it official. Consider this as your first step in the journey to you becoming Fuhrer."

Bradley had trouble understanding every word. His head hurt as if it was going to burst, which made listening intently a tremendous task.

"Is three years a time limit, sir?"

It sounded so long! He felt so young and so trapped. Three years. Three years just to achieve a small step to his life's greatest goal!

_I was made for so much more than this. I survived everything to climb higher and still, I need to wait? And what do I have to pass time? What do I have to endure this unfairness?_ He thought bitterly.

He tried to clear his tied throat, but his breathing was stuck in his chest, knotted by a cough he had to hold back, so he could hide his human weakness. Who'd thought a homunculus could fall ill? He was super human, so how could he show failure in front of his ominous creator?

Not that he liked calling him his creator. His doctor Frankenstein, maybe, with the help of Goldtooth...

"You intend to go faster, don't you, my Wrath? Does it infuriate you, that you have to go through the human's system and its limits? What else can you do?"

You're still experimenting, having fun trying to understand me, because I'm not the same "greater" race as you. Try as much as you want, but you'll never understand!

He was stuck on that. He refused to answer and Father's patience quickly wore off.

"So you'll obey in your way, Wrath? Is that what I have to understand here?"

"I exist to serve," he retorted, blinking to chase away some sweat trailing down his brow.

His expression was unreadable, but still, his sentence got Father to laugh. It was such an irony, really!

"You're such a willing underling. I should have turned every homunculus into soldier first. It's quite handy, really..."

Father talked more, but Wrath barely heard anything. He had small goals to pave the road to him becoming the Fuhrer. He couldn't care less at the moment, he felt like a zombie. Hell, he had to be running a fever or something, his right eye was throbbing with pain. He barely walked out on his two feet and hardly managed to get himself to his squad's barracks.

His mind was filled with fog and the air felt terribly cold, inside or outside. He collapsed on his bed and crashed asleep, with horrid voices yelling in his head.

...

He was woken up by fingers gently replacing his hair and the soothing stroking of a wet piece of fabric on his forehead.

"I can't believe you got yourself sick, Bradley..." a familiar voice whispered, sounding slightly disapproving.

He blinked, his tattooed eye throbbing from pain and he looked around, to face Amelia. He was sweaty from the running fever and inhaled sharply as he realized she was seeing him in the sorry state. That was the last thing he needed to feel better. At least, regarding his pride... His breath turned into coughs and worries were clear on Amelia's figure.

"Who warned you?" he asked as the coughing died down.

He tried to raise himself up on his elbow, only to be pushed back down on his pillows.

"That would be me, sergeant. I thought it was the better way to get you feeling better soon. You've been pretty depressed lately, anyway, so sick or not, I guess it can't hurt to have a little company." Grumman observed from behind.

He was standing across the room, his back on the wall and his arms folded, looking rather full of himself, quite as always. But Juliett walked in and gave the blond man a slight punch in the shoulder, before to smile at her fellow soldier.

"It was my idea. Grumman simply followed it and went to pick up Amelia at her place."

Bradley was more touched by the gesture and the attention then he'd want to be, but Amelia's warm smile convinced him that it was alright and that he shouldn't worry. He lied back, slowly relaxing.

"Still, there was no necessity to come all the way out here for me. It's just a cold." He croaked, shivering despite all his efforts to look strong.

"I don't think it's your every day cold," Juliett observed. "Your left eye's wounds reopened, you know?"

He looked surprised; though that would explain the throbbing pain he had been feeling during the last hours...

"I think you overwork yourself." Grumman analyzed, nodding to himself, playing with his moustache.

"I didn't...!"

"Calm down, Brad." Amelia cut him off. "Being a soldier ain't easy. You wouldn't be the first one to overexert yourself."

He scowled, looking away from her. He wasn't too sure he liked that position they were in, with her sitting at his bedside and him merely trying to focus on staying awake, lying in bed like an invalid.

Maybe was he exaggerating a little, but still... He felt inappropriate and weak. And that wasn't a nice feeling, especially when he knew that he was a superior being than all the humans trying to comfort him about his state.

"Alright, maybe I need some rest." He reluctantly accepted.

They remained in silence for a moment, until that Juliett gently shoved her elbow in Grumman's ribs, and give her a non too subtle sign, as if they should walk away to give the soldier and his friend some air. Eli was clueless for a moment, and suddenly seemed to understand, as Bradley looked at them and wondered why he had to be surrounded by grown-ups acting like kids.

"I just remember, I got this important assignment to attend to, so I got to leave. If you need anything, miss Amelia, just talk to our boss in the other room."

That meant Kimblee and that guy was the last person Bradley wanted to see meeting Amelia, but well, she had certainly already seen him and there was nothing he could do to help it now that she was here.

"I've got work too," Juliett added with a smile. "Take good care of our comrade for us, Amelia!"

The pair of friends walked out, Grumman giving Brad one of his trademark grins that meant someone was lucky as hell to be ill. And Bradley couldn't help but feel manipulated. What was he supposed to do? He certainly looked like crap, his mind was still hazy, which made it hard to think clearly. He was going to say dumb things, and cover himself in shame and that was the last thing he wanted.

But Amelia didn't care about that. He forgot it a lot, but she wasn't that kind of girl. He was already starting to think there really were many kinds of girls, as Grumman had taught him.

"How does your eye feel?"

"What about my...?"

Bradley shut up; suddenly realizing his eye patch was gone. He could feel the air directly on his left eyelids. He couldn't see anything though, his eye was shut, but he became worried sick at the idea someone could have spotted his secret.

He covered the left side of his face with his hand, trying to keep his voice calm.

"It's still hurt, but it's less painful than earlier." He tried to comfort her. "Where's my eye patch?"

He needed it to hide the truth, quickly. He wasn't sure if he could keep his eye shut, since he hadn't much practice at it. He would often open both eyes and just adapt at seeing nothing but darkness on the left...

"You can't put it back right now. At least, that's what the doctor said. It's your eyelids which were wounded, right? Your eye is shut so firmly..."

"I know... They burned me, that's why..." he quickly lied.

She shivered and he was ashamed of the lie. But what other choice was there, huh?

"It's really sad, that they did such a thing." He looked at her, surprised of her comment and she explained herself with a shy smile, closing her eyes: "You have such a nice eye's color."

And that, that was a real compliment, far better than whatever Lust could have told him moments ago. Though he didn't like to think of Lust while facing Amelia. And he was mad at himself for caring about what _she_ thought.

"Thanks... I guess."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean... Oh, I don't know why I'm apologizing or why you're looking so down."

"Not too sure myself." He looked away and sneezed, which made her jump a little, but then looked back. "It's been a long day. And my head's like a battlefield."

She looked taken aback by his choice of words. But then she smiled, with a hint of bitterness in her eyes.

"Trying to say the war is over too soon won't get you anywhere. If you're running away from your fears, they'll get the better of you."

"I don't fear anything!" he protested, raising up to back his point.

"That's worst than running away," she retorted, gently but firmly pushing him back down. "Come on Brad, we all have limits."

"Well that's a lie. Because your patience has certainly no bound."

"Oh, I'm not that patient with anyone."

The question slipped through his lips before he could utter a second thought:

"Then why are you like that with me?"

She blinked and blushed as she realized what he truly meant, looking at her with his sleepy right eye.

_Why are you acting different with me? What are we to each other? I can spit on Lust, but I have trouble lying to you...What is this feeling that whatever could happen, as long as you'd be there with me..._ he thought.

He couldn't push the thought any further. It was scary. He felt dependant of her. He wanted her to be in the same state of mind. He wanted her to keep acting differently for him, because he was different. And she felt different.

"You're really perceptive, for someone with just one eye," she observed, trying to joke.

She seemed nervous suddenly, shifting a lot on her chair, running one hand through her messily tied hair. She had no idea what was exactly going on between them. And she was starting to wonder herself what that strange man truly meant to her.

"Hey, calm down. You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

He coughed a little and she shook her head.

"How could I be impatient with someone that sick?"

"I'm not _dying_, it's just a cold!"

She laughed at that.

"You're quite obstinate, King, you know that? That's why being patient is the only way to deal with you."

He grimaced at the name she gave him.

"It's Brad." He said, looking away from her.

"I think King suits you fine."

"Well, I like it more when you say 'Brad'." He insisted.

"And how should I say it then?" she playfully asked.

She tried an arrogant voice, which was as close as she could get to military way of calling someone: "Bradley!"

He smiled despite all his attempts to stay serious, before to shake his head.

"_Brad"_, she then whispered, gently, as if saying it too loud could hurt him.

Another shake of the head.

"Bradley," she tried then, on a really seductive voice.

That got him blinking. So she could have that tone too? And how it send chills through his spine, but good ones this time. He bit his lower lip.

"I think someone outside will get the wrong idea if you say it like that."

She blushed, laughing though, because this was just a game. And it was okay like that. But then, her eyes reopened and became all serious.

"I'm pretty sure I can get you to like hearing me calling you by your first name."

"Well, you can try. Amelia..." He said it with a husky voice, just trying to mess with her a little.

It seemed to work, as she stiffened in her chair, before to look at the ceiling. Her cheeks turned slowly pink as he rolled on his side, cuddling his head in the pillow, staring at her with his one good eye, a sly smile on his face. He liked knowing he could have such an effect on her. He bet he wouldn't have any on Lust, and it was also reassuring.

"Sometimes, you make me feel like a young girl again, you know, King."

And he could admit that whichever tone she took and whichever name she choose, it sounded good in her mouth. But then again, he was sick and surely the fever was wrecking down his brain. It had to be an explanation. He wasn't going to fall in love. That was surely impossible for a homunculus anyway.

To be continued...

I think there's two things in this chapter that needs refinement regarding storyline. The idea that Bradley wants to be scary (it was funny, but well, I ain't too sure of it now) and how Bradley suddenly fall ill. It happen sometimes, one second, you feel alright, the next, you're sick like a dog. I don't know if it sounds realistic, but I wanted to integrate it in this chapter, so that there was a least some interaction with him and Amelia... Next one should include more action than thinking, but I've been busy with other FMA stuff. Need to get back into this story. XD

Oh, and just so you know, there was no beta done on this chapter, due to uncontrollable circumstances... I tried editing it though to remove the most basic mistakes... Next chapter should come out faster! Review to encourage me in writing faster! ^^


	8. Segmented Spirits

Hey guys, I know it's been a long time. I've actually had no inspiration or time to work on this fanfiction for all this time. And just now, as I start school again and my doctorate, which mean a thesis and all the yada-yada, inspiration is back! Know that I'm really intent onto completing this fic. I have many more themes I wanna exploit and there's no way that I'll let this chance pass me by. Thank you for your support and reviews and faves. I sure hope I can give you more chapters quickly, but I don't know how things will turn out since I'll be busy with school. Lately, I've been working a lot to save up for university and to complete my demand entry. Now that I'm accepted and finally here, I'm starting to realize what it means. It's for real now. And there's still nothing done. Anyway, enough about my life, let's get on with Fullmetal alchemist!

I chose you - Segmented spirit - Chapter 8

Pants and whispers were all he could hear at first. It took him time to acknowledge he was whispering unintelligible words himself. Then there was fog, which really told him that something was amiss. Bradley tried to focus on asserting his surroundings, but his tattooed eye was covered with his eye patch and his good eye was obstructed by brown hair that surely weren't from his own head. His stomach was filled with fire and he was holding something, wait, someone warm in his arms. A sense of urgency was filling the air and he realized the person panting right next to him was Amelia herself. Hands were touching and skin was brushing through remote pieces of clothing. She was trying to remove his shirt and he was undressing her with a rashness that he found quite unacceptable. What were they doing? He was no schoolboy, but he was certain he had missed a great chapter of his life, for them to be suddenly so close. Something was wrong, because Amelia's voice and hands were different. Her accent was strong, and suddenly, he saw the tattoo on her naked chest and her eyes turned to red. Her lips curved in a perverted smile, that had nothing to do with the woman he knew and he woke up, barely holding back his scream.

He looked around him in the dead of the night, making sure Lust wasn't there, because that had to be her in the end of this weird dream. His breathing was uneven and his multiple souls were laughing at his expenses.

_Someone has been naughty behind our backs_, they snickered.

Taking sharp breaths in and out, the young homunculus removed his eye patch, running a hand over his face. He could tell part of this dream was coming from his own wants and that the rest of it was simply from a childish fear of the unknown.

_I don't need anything like this in my life_, he tried to convince himself.

Nor the pain, nor the pants and even less the panicked caresses. Amelia's presence was enough in itself to make him feel whole and normal, which was already something. Her smile was a grace that kept his feet on the ground. Her eyes staring at him could never hold anything like Lust's eyes, because she would be corrupted in his point of view and it was wrong for her to be impure.

_Don't think so greatly of humans_, his souls warned him.

Humans in general were inferior, but Bradley had made some friends among them as impossible at it may sound for someone like him.

_I'll think what I want_, he retorted angrily.

...

The sword cut through thin air and wood and flesh, provoking a chilly scream. Bradley could almost taste the blood in the air. He was standing outside, his blade plunged in the backdoor of a small house, tearing a wound in the defecting scientist's stomach on the other side of the door. There had been a mistake, back at the lab where they were developing Father's dolls. One of the newest employees had decided to resign from his post. The problem was that you couldn't simply quit this job. And human's silence had a cheap price. One's life.

Bradley gritted his teeth as his victim panted and gasped from the pain. Blood was leaking from the door step. That moron had tried to run and Envy had decided it would make a good occasion to test his young brother Wrath.

"Get out of here, you're just making it worse." he'd warned the man, before to stab him.

He already knew he would hit a vital spot, and it wasn't out of compassion that he gave a warning. He was pissed, knowing that he himself would get the same treament if he was to run from the other homonculi. Not that King Bradley would ever act as cowardly as to run away from the life that had been designed for him. It was just another step toward his goal, bearing it all. He wasn't even human anymore, so why would he even want to run away? Because all this hadn't been his own choice? Because he hated Father and all of his so-called bothers? Because he had to kill, which was almost as infuriating as waiting for his greatest goal -becoming Fuhrer- to be achieved?

Where would he run, anyway? There was no family, no country to go with his medical file. He was a mere number in the lot. A cog in the machine. A pawn on the field. A puppet with invisible strings. And that drove him mad. Mad to the point where he almost felt jealous of that guy for trying to run away.

_If I tried, it might... just might work. After all..._

But those thoughts were forbidden, just as running away was...

"Why are you doing this? I swore I'd stay... quiet about all this!"

"You had your chance to be quiet. Quietly do your work! That's what you humans are good at!"

Bradley really had no compassion in him at that point. He was enraged. And as he realized that he could just pull the sword out and let the ex-scientist bleed to death, he understood that he wanted to make him pay.

Make him pay for being human. Make him pay for standing up against Father just by running away. Because behind pride, there was shame and beneath the shame so much pain...

"Who... What are you?!"

King kicked in the door, slamming it open, freeing his sword and sending the middle-aged man to the floor, clutching to his spilling guts.

"You may try and guess. But with all the time you got left, it would be pointless. Just as it was pointless to run."

As soon it was said and as he saw the man cowering in fear at his feet, he felt disappointed. How lame. He was starting to sound like some serial killer maniac when this was just a job. He was getting too emotional. He wanted to be feared, alright, but respected too. There had to be some way to threaten someone while remaining elegant.

"What about eternal life?"

"A convenient lie."He paused, running the tip of his sword over the floor, appreciating the sound it made. As he looked back at the man and saw that he was still alive, he sighed, but put on a smile.

"Now now, you're a tough guy, I'll admit as much. Tell me what's worth hanging on? Your insides are almost all on the outside."

Bradey knew it was a mistake, talking to him. But he was acting on the spur of the moment.

"As... as long as there's life... there's..."

The homonculus slashed his throat open at that, refusing to hear the word "hope" coming out from his mouth. How could there be any hope, when everything, _**everything**_, was already planned?!

Then he thought of Amelia. So there was hope. But such a small hope since he was what he was and had done what he did.

"Hope must be a frailer thing then you human."

_Maybe even frailer than me._ He who was in between both worlds. He dried his blade from the blood and sheathed it, before to turn his back on the corpse and closing the door behind him. Gluttony and Lust would remove any evidence, or well, eat any evidence, down to the victim itself. Bradley hadn't had to be really cautious, since they were on the outskirts of the city and it wasn't really occupied with civilians. It had been a long race and it would be a long walk back to his casern.

But Bradley's anger was tired now. He walked slowly, forcing himself not to drag his feet. This was a test, and he had passed, at least, from Father's point of view. But the killing had taken to long. The rage had surpassed his skills. As a human, he had failed. Was this part of the Fuhrer he was supposed to become? Was this really okay? Why was he feeling guilty of anything? He had killed countless, even helpless, people before. Men, women, children. He was no saint, no man, he was a soldier. But he wondered. Wasn't he guilty just because there was another side of him that he could never show to Amelia?

...

Right when he was starting to wonder if he should show around Amelia's hotel -King was still shy about the status of their relationship and knew that if he insisted anymore, it would be seen as a courtship, when he was supposed to marry someone with a higher rank in society-, a letter arrived for him at the casern.

"Well, well, if it isn't from your pretty Amelia! I guess she must be feeling lonely." Grumman observed as he red the address on the envelop, stroking one side of his moustache, smirking idly.

"You haven't visited her in a while, have you?" Juliett remarked.

"We all have been overloaded with work, lately," he retorted, forcing himself not to snap at their jokes, but snatching the letter from Eli's hands.

He knew they were just gently messing around. He was naturally mad at any time of the day, but today, he didn't really felt like showing it. Amelia had written to him. He just wished he could sit quietly alone to read whatever she had written. But the others were looking so expectantly at him that he could guess what they'd say if he went away. He opened the letter casually, unfolding it with as much confidence as he could put in the gesture and managed to look absent-minded as he red its content.

_Dear Brad,_

_It's been some time since we last met. I hope your fever is all healed up, right? You could try to let me know what's going on. Some friend you are. Anyway... If you have any time in your busy schedule as a soldier, could you come and give me a visit? My aunt has been on edge lately. I could use a change of scenery._

_If you don't have time, I'll understand. Just get in touch, okay?_

_with all my best wishes,_

_Amelia _

He frowned as he looked up and fold the letter as soon as he realized that the two soldiers were leaning over his shoulders to read it too.

"Seriously, guys, there's only my name on the envelop!"

"All her best wishes?" Grumman repeated. "Man, what have you been doing, seriously? She doesn't even send you a kiss..."

Juliett laughed behind her left hand, before to wink at him.

"You know, it's okay to take things slow. You're a gentleman after all, sergeant. But not giving any news for weeks may mean a certain... lack of interest. A woman needs to feel important."

"I'm not trying to go out with her or... Argh! Stop acting as if I was some schoolboy!"

Grumman gave him a friendly punch in the shoulder.

"Come on, Brad, you can't mean it. Such a nice girl, just about your age? If you're not interested, I'll be the one who'll get in touch with her. My experience never failed me."

King was shocked and it showed in his face, much to Grumman's amusement, though Juliett didn't seem too supportive of their superior's behaviour.

"Now, Eli, don't you cross the line!" she warned him.

"You'd have to lose one eye to be her type." Bradley added, regaining his composure and crossing his arms behind his head.

"Oh, so you're suddenly confident? Even though you'd never had even one girlfriend in your whole life?"

Bradley wasn't sure if he should get angry about that insult, since after all, it really wasn't his fault. He had been raised surrounded by other guys and just recently started interacting with women. And it wasn't rare for military men to stay bachelors for long time. But then again, he didn't like to be made fun of or to seem to lack anything compared to another human. He was supposed to be much better. Fortunately, Kimblee entered the room at this instant, raising one brow as he noticed how everyone's desk was vacant except for Bradley's.

"Aren't you **all** supposed to be working on your paperwork? Grumman, you should be giving the example to the others!"

For once, their colonel didn't seem in the mood for jokes, so Juliett and Eli went back to their places. Bradley was left with the same question floating in his head for the rest of the afternoon. Why did Amelia had literally asked him to come and see her? Was something amiss? Or could she simply be missing him? He sure had missed her, but he still felt too clumsy and rash around her. Not to mention that he had been waiting to wake up in the morning to find that the face looking back at him in the mirror was friendly enough to go meet her. Seemed this couldn't wait anymore. His hair was a mess from being teased by Grumman during their break, but he managed to fix it, except for the few unruly locks falling on his forehead. He barely took the time to change into civil clothes, a pair of blue jeans and a black shirt. He had met Amelia too often in his soldier uniform. And maybe all the insinuations of Grumman were bearing fruits. He desperately wanted to make a good impression, after all the weeks it had been.

The walk towards her hotel seemed longer than usual and for once, he wondered if he should have called before. She always seemed ready to see him when he showed up, but that had been only twice or trice...

It seemed like a much much longer time, since all their meeting were separated by months usually. Winter would soon arrive, the ground was slowly freezing. All that they were lacking was snow. His heart was still warm, though, since he knew Amelia had hoped to see him. Her interest for him wasn't calculated. She might be the only normal thing in his whole life...

_You're not falling in love, Bradley, you're not. It's just a friendly visit_, he told himself.

But as soon as he spotted her, he couldn't even hear the laughs from the souls left in his head. She was washing the windows from the second floor, standing right on the semi-roof. She was wearing a pair of pants for the first time since he'd met her, but she still looked feminine and sweet with her two bunches. He felt worry growing up inside him as he realized she wasn't tied to anything and that she could fall at any wrong move. He didn't dare to greet her as she was focused on her work. He would have to scold her for not being more careful later, if she let him the chance too. He leaned over a nearby building, crossing his arms over his chest as he readied himself to wait for her to be done.

It was a strange feeling, to wait for someone. The idea made him smile, for some reason. To think the future Fuhrer was forced to wait on some common girl. But Amelia wasn't just any common girl. She wasn't plain, though she wasn't some outrageous beauty. Her personality made her all the more interesting. He had the impression of knowing her so well after so little time spent with her. He remembered how she'd obliviously took the sun in and how she'd slap him on their first encounter. His smile grew wider. And then, she made him jump by suddenly yelling at him:

"KING?! How long have you been here? You should have told me!"

She had noticed him while he was reminiscing. He had no idea how much time had passed, though his souls seemed sure that it hadn't been that long.

"Don't yell like that, you almost gave me a heart attack!" he protested.

"You, having a heart attack? What about me? I'm working here and...!"

"Amelia, how many times should I tell you not to shout your life from the rooftop? Everybody can hear you like this. Get down to greet your guest at least!" her aunt intervened from the first floor.

The young woman blushed a little, before to make a sign in Bradley's direction to tell him that she wouldn't be long. He simply nodded, with a sly smile. A few minutes later, she was down on earth and right in front of him.

"I take it you've gotten my letter." was all he got as a greeting.

"What letter?" he replied playfully.

"Don't mess around. I sent it yesterday and you show up now."

"What if this was a coincidence? I've been meaning to come way sooner."

He had figured that showing up just because of the letter wouldn't sound as good as saying he just wanted to see her.

"That's sweet, King."

"Brad."

"It'll be King for today. You've been ignoring me." she said, pouting slightly.

It was all part of her play, so he just sighed.

"I didn't come to give you excuses, Amelia."

"No, you came because I asked you to."

"Are you planning on talking while standing in the middle of the street? Or do you want to take a walk and vent it all out on me?"

"Vent it out on you? No way! I'm not angry... After all, you don't have to come around and check on me or anything. It's just that..."

She suddenly seemed shy and something in him melt at the sight of her fragility. He was trying to act confident, but he was a bundle of nerves at this point. What was part of her game and what was real? He couldn't tell. He looked around and noticed someone in one of the hotel's windows. Looking intently at them. And more intently at him. As if he was some dangerous creature or something.

"Amelia, your aunt is staring at us." he warned her.

"Oh... Then, let's take a walk. We could go back to that park, from the last time, don't you think?"

"Sure."

She led the way, happy to jump on this occasion to avoid eye contact or to resume in their discussion. He quickly caught up with her, but not before to observe the way her hair was moving with each of her motion, or her blouse underneath her frilly vest that looked quite good on her. She was wearing boots with small heels and seemed somewhat taller. She had changed some of her clothing as he'd been waiting for her. Suddenly, he realized that it was starting to look like a lover's quarrel. He had seen one once, between Juliett and her husband. But he was pretty sure that Amelia wasn't his girlfriend. She would have asked him if she were, wouldn't she?

They kept silence at first, trying to match their pace to each other. He didn't want her to run beside him and she didn't want him to feel as if he wasn't even moving. Their arms brushed slightly as they walked and she jerked away, as if his touch was dangerous. Or maybe was it just wrong for people their age to act too familiar.

"It's really been a while, huh?" he started, trying to make small talk since she remained silent. "I never found a good occasion for passing by. And work has been piling up. I had to chase a criminal around Central the other month. I wasn't in a state to see anyone." he admitted in a whisper.

"I thought you weren't here to apologize?"

"This isn't an excuse. I'm just being honest. And trying to get you to talk." he added with a smirk.

She smiled at that, but just for a moment.

"You caught him?"

"Who?"

"The criminal you just mentioned."

"Oh... Yeah. I just... didn't like the outcome. But I don't wanna talk about that."

"Of course."

Silence came back and he sighed.

"Are you feeling uneasy, King?"

"Well, you're angry with me." he said as they crossed the street.

"I said I wasn't angry."

"Then why the letter?"

She looked up at him, catching his eye in hers for a while and missed her step as they were getting back on the sidewalk. He caught her by sheer reflex, grabbing her by the shoulders to keep her steady. He had to drag her in some kind of hug to make sure she was alright. The sudden closeness seemed to surprise her more than her fall.

"You're kind. But you're distant." she declared.

He blinked at that.

"Distant? I'm holding you up right now."

She shook her head.

"We meet once for each three months or so. And still, I feel as if I knew you a lot more than that."

"Oh, you don't. I'm not that easy to figure out."

"I know."

She pushed him away and resumed walking, leaving him with even more questions. He dashed behind her, putting one hand on her right shoulder.

"What's up with you, Amelia?"

"Nothing. I'm just leaving in a few weeks to visit my parents. I wanted to let you know. You're the only real friend I've made since I've arrived in Central."

"Okay... That makes no sense. You must have dozens of friends. Everyone likes you."

"You're wrong, Bra... I meant, King. Oh, darn it!"

"Amelia!"

It was his first time hearing her swear and it sounded wrong, almost as wrong as the nightmare he'd made weeks ago.

"I don't want to leave. There was something growing up between us. A complicity I've never had with anyone else. I thought it would get even better after the last time we saw each other, but then you didn't visit the hotel for weeks and I didn't know what to think anymore."

He gulped down, trying to register all those new information. She was definitely mad. But she had no right to be, had she?

"I... Why are you even upset?"

"I don't know! I don't know and I never intended to get upset!"

At that point, he understood that they needed a calm place to get things explained. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders and gently dragged her with him. He didn't even know he could do it gently, he usually dragged people to the execution's room or peloton. But he wanted to be careful around her.

"Calm down for now. Did something happen during the last weeks? Something except me not showing around?"

She blinked.

"Why would...?"

"I've never seen you like this."

"There was... some prank calls lately." she reluctantly admitted. As she started talking, it seemed that she couldn't stop herself anymore and she went on: "People saying that they would plant a bomb in our hotel or do a holdup or something. People warning my aunt not to let me out of her sight. A guy even asked me if my parents were alright back home, but his voice was so creepy... My father was attacked last week in our hometown."

The first thing that came to mind was that it made no sense to threaten Amelia. Unless the homonculi thought that she was no good for him, like Golden tooth did. His grip tightened over her shoulder and he unconsciously pulled her closer. This was his fault, right? Just for those few times spent together?

_We'd warn you_, his souls echoed in his head.

But maybe was he just turning paranoid.

"It sounds serious."

"At first, we thought it was just some teenage boys doing jokes, you know. But they broke balloons filled with scarlet juice in the windows the other night and... It's become harder and harder to push this back from our thoughts. My aunt had some trouble with her finances, about the way she acquired the building, so she didn't dare to contact the army."

"So this isn't about us."

"Don't get me wrong. I didn't ask you to come just to ask for help. At first, I wanted to keep those calls and pranks a secret..."

"I'm not sure you can call those pranks."

They had reached the park, but King was on autopilot, entirely focused on Amelia.

"Brad, I don't want you all worried over me. I just wanted you to understand that my little tantrum just now wasn't your fault. I'm a little stressed out."

"Just a little?"

" As long as the calls were just calls, I didn't got too worried."

He led her to a bench in the park, but she shook her head and grabbed his hand, dragging him to a hill where she invited him to sat, after removing her jacket to use it as a blanket.

"What do you want me to do? I can at least have an investigation started."

"I don't want to burden you with this..."

"It's no problem. I'll find a way to set things straight."

"I'm no damsel in distress, Brad. Don't get all knightly on me."

But her hands were shaking as she forced on a smile. And the urge to protect her was so strong at this rate, he had to control his body from moving on its own. His throat felt too tight. There was pain and shame for not checking on her safety before. He'd never thought anything could happen to her. Maybe use that magic way of thinking that if you don't even think about something, it won't happened. But now, she was threatened and scared.

"When are you leaving?"

"In a few days. My aunt want me safe back home for the time being," she sighed. "Not that I'd feel any safer there, since my father was attacked, but it's been a long time since I last saw my parents..."

Somehow, Bradley realized at this point that Amelia had turned into a steady notion for him. He'd never expect her to go away. She could have vanished at any time, without giving him any news about it. If he had waited any longer, she could already have been gone when he'd walked up to her place.

"So... You asked me out here to have me righting the problem with those threats or just... to have me preventing you from leaving?"

"No, no. Just to check if we... could keep in touch, you know?"

He wondered if he should touch her, but refrained from it.

"Like letters?"

The ghost of a smile danced on his lips and she nodded, slowly, worried of looking too eager.

"Would you have time for that?"

"I could make some. But I don't know what I could be writing. It'd certainly sound boring."

Her laugh was music in his ears at that point and she gave him a little push on the shoulder, as if to ask him to get serious. Unconsciously, he grabbed her hand in his, their fingers intertwining. She leaned on his shoulder, still smiling. Her smell surrounded him for an instant. It was fresh and clean. He felt lighter and bolder. Before that his souls could tease him, he had wrapped his arms around her. She didn't flinch, accepting this embrace. And the fact she would leave soon may have been the reason why he was letting his emotions take over. A Central without her was like his world when he was just number 12.

"You'll have to sent me reports of your situation, so that I'm sure you're safe despite all those threats." he added.

"You should leave your job at home, Brad."

"No more King?"

"No more King."

"Just when I was starting to get used to it." he sighed.

"You're unbelievable!"

To be continued.

God, this turned out so lovey-dovey... I had trouble, cause at first, I wanted to have a fire breaking out in the hotel and an arsonist attacking Central and Bradley rescuing Amelia, but it made no freaking sense, especially when I started thinking that I could just throw Hawkeye's father in there, when her mother is still a mere 12 years old... So I switched plan and think that they would just talk together, but then, Amelia got threatened (it happened on the spur of the moment) and I stopped describing their surroundings, so it sounds like all the manga I've been reading lately. Because I'm such a marshmallow... But hey, it's a new chapter, and I still like it. I just hope Bradley wasn't too OOC. Let me know what you think. And I really wanted to decide on a last name for Amelia. It drive me nuts that she has no identity except from Mrs. Bradley. Suggestions are welcome! ^^

And reviews will certainly keep me writing. I know I took time, but there were still reviews even recently and it encouraged me all the more. I've completed most of my big fiction project, so I can get working on this one instead. And school. Oh school. Feels like it will never be truly over... XD

See ya around!


	9. Taking a Chance

Hi everyone. I'm glad to say that I can already submit a new chapter, though it's a short one, because finally advanced quite a lot in here. I don't know if I always used the right word, I was deprived from my French-english dictionary thanks to a major virus attack on my dear pc, but all is well now and here is the chapter. Thanks for viewing, reading and reviewing so far! ;)

I chose you - Chapter 9

"I never thought a man could be that indifferent. When I take some time off my schedule to meet a bachelor...! I thought that this was supposed to be a date."

Her name was Karole. Not that it really mattered to Bradley. He had spent the last three hours of his life with her. And she was everything he hated about human. Vain, superficial, high-classed. She was wearing heels that made her taller than him. She was wearing a dress that seemed out of place, too many pearls, that all caught the light and blinded his only eye. She had presented herself as the heiress of a fortune. He could guess easily why she'd follow him as a husband. It would give her status, and power. She knew he was going to become fuhrer. He guessed that meant he would have to kill her.

"He's a block of ice. When I gave him my hand, he shook it!"

She was shrieking and he gritted his teeth. Oh, killing her would feel so good. There would be no shame to it. She was a disgrace to the rest of the human race. Oh, sure, she was the daughter of some guy, a director from the company which served as the main source of weapons supply for the army. So that would make it wrong to kill her. Not that Bradley thought that he would get caught. Father would know, but that was the last of his worries at the moment.

"Did you hear me, father? He shook it!"

What was he supposed to do with her hand, kiss it?! As if he would do that. He barely knew her. Never asked to meet her. Never wanted to meet her. He could be with Amelia right now, but he had accepted to meet a few potential wives, in exchange for her safety. He was still wondering why he couldn't decide himself who he would marry. Wasn't it to soon? It would look strange, right, for such a low ranking officer to marry such a woman. He didn't want to have a wife that would shriek. His hearing was already too good for his own good, and shrieking...

"Just give yourself some time, Karole. You're still young." her father tried to calm her down.

The scientists must be paying those people with gold if they were willing to put up with him. Bradley wasn't really social, but he had made his best to be at his worst with them. He didn't talk, barely respond, didn't try to make conversation. He had managed to only say yes and no for the last three hours. And he could say that he was happy to have met a woman that was so hateable. Amelia could stay the only one in his mind, even if it was wrong. And it was wrong, because it meant putting her in danger. But he was slowly accepting it. Anyone could die. Even him. And everyone would die on the promised day. So he had to make the most out of the time he had now. And that meant that he'd decided on some things.

_There's one person that I want. I won't let them take her away from me._

If it meant humiliation like that one he was living right now, so be it.

_You're so cute, Wrath_, his souls whispered to him.

"I want those three hours in my life restored! This was a loss of time!" Karole insisted.

_I'm definitely killing that bitch_, he thought as he rolled his eyes.

Amelia wouldn't be too proud of him, but she didn't have to know. He wasn't going to feel ashamed for all the people he'd removed from the surface of the earth.

"You see how annoyed he is! He doesn't even try to convince me to give us another try!"

_I wonder if you'd give a stomach ache to Glutonny..._

He managed a smile, somehow. He just had an idea. He cleared his throat to get the other two's attention.

"If you're giving up so easily, you're not fit to be a Fuhrer's wife. I'll need someone supportive, someone that stand up for me at all cost. I think we've indulged to your rants for long enough." he declared.

...

"If you're not even trying, what's the point in meeting those women?" Lust asked him.

"Father asked me to meet them, so I meet them. He didn't tell me to get along with them."

They were walking in the underground passage, heading toward the place where Sloth was supposed to be working. It was Wrath's punishment for not putting any more effort into his "courtship debut". Lust was there to check up on him, but it seemed that she was set on getting to know him better. The noise of her high heels hitting the floor was getting on his nerves, but he guessed that he could live with that. It was already better to be sent on a mission with her instead of Envy. He really wanted to run his sword through Envy's mouth every now and then.

"Maybe I should ask him to be more precise when he sent you on mission?"

"I won't change my course of action. I don't care about those women."

"Are you pretending to be in love?"

"Preposterous..."

"You must think something of her, otherwise, you'd at least try one of those potential wives..."

"More walk, less talk." he ordered.

"Could it be that you're impotent, Wrath?"

Her tone was chilly and mocking and he felt insulted despite all his efforts to just stay angry at her and not to let her words turn into anything else. Instead of glaring at her, he controlled his voice and retorted with a laugh:

"Worried about your little brother, are you?"

She sneered in response and he smiled fully. One for Wrath, zero for Lust.

"You're not worthy of calling yourself my brother yet." she elegantly said, walking faster in the dark tunnel.

Bradley had removed his eye patch and could see just fine in the dark, just as her.

"Well, well, I guess being the first human made homonculus won't help. But I'm the first of my kind. Means something. Which one are you? Third one, fourth one? I don't even wanna know what he used to built you."

There was a laughing in the air and he looked up, surprised to realize that it didn't come from Lust.

"Don't get scared, Wrath. We might not be alone in this tunnel, but _he_ would never harm us." she intervened, her smile too wide for her perfect lips.

He remained silent, wondering what that could mean. There was Envy, and Glutonny, and Sloth, and Lust, and Greed and him. That made six sins out of seven. The one left out was... pride. So maybe was he already created?

"If he's here, why isn't he the one checking on Sloth's work?"

"Because Father wants you to do it. I hope you'll get blisters from this walk."

"Don't act like Envy..."

She hissed a brow at that, which he didn't see of course, but she seemed genuinely surprised that he knew when she was overdoing it or not.

"Worried about your big sister, are you now?"

He laughed at that, but not to mock her or anything.

"Take it as you want. Just give up the false pretences. I'm already mad enough as it is."

He wasn't sure what he told her that, but he guessed that it came out naturally, as something that just needed to be said. Even if she was kinda scary because she could use her charms even against him, he felt more sympathy for her than for the whole rest of his brothers. She was classy, in a way. And there was a certain dignity to her when she wasn't trying to test him.

"So, how often are you mad?"

"All the time."

"Sounds intense. You must be passionate then, when you let it out."

"How much farther can he be?!" he whispered, scowling.

She laughed at that and he sighed. Because she was wearing off his patience. If she wanted him to unsheathe his swords and give her a beating, he could indulge her.

"Why so impatient? Wanna be back outside to meet with your woman before that she leaves?"

"So you like it better down here? I didn't know you were the bat type of person." He retorted.

"Don't try to change the subject, Wrath. Just spill the beans. You're the first human based homunculus, you said it yourself; and I can't help being curious about you. About your reasons, your thoughts… You're interested in that woman, at least admit it."

He felt uneasy to see her so insistent on the subject. Wasn't she going to repeat it all to Father? He couldn't trust her as he did with Juliett. Did Lust reminded him of Juliett? That sounded so wrong.

"Drop it." He barked.

"You're getting all nervous for such frivolous thing, Wrath! It's endearing."

He gritted his teeth, trying to find it inside him to get mad at her. But for some reason, her nagging wasn't getting on his nerves. He was scared of revealing too much. He had already been too earnest about his opinions and feelings. Anyone from the army could tell Father about Amelia. Envy knew. And he still wasn't sure that he could really hope for any future for the both of them. She was a little concerned about this after all and the last thing he wanted was for her to be in the same situation as him. He couldn't drag her into this. He already hated lying to her all the time! Through his contrary thoughts, his souls were cheering him up.

_It doesn't feel like a trap Brad. You shouldn't be all grumpy about it. It's okay to have a heart, even in the state you're in. You'd better make a good use of your life and that woman is a good investment, believe us!_

They had never felt that supportive, almost friendly, when all he ever saw in them was a brute force to be tamed…

"Don't you patronize me! I don't need a sister."

"And here I am with six brothers. Do I complain about it?"

No, she even seemed to take a lot of pride in being a homunculus. And among them, she was one of the best fighter, he had to give her that.

"What do you want, huh? Just say it."

"Always so direct! Pushy boy!" she smiled, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

And for some reason, he felt embarrassed as she said that. As if he was guilty of something. As if her opinion mattered to him.

_Relax Brad_, he told himself. _You're losing your bearing because of the feel of this place. She's not the only one watching you. Don't slip._

What was there to slip? He had no secret, had he? Amelia wasn't…

"Could you be able to love a human, Wrath? After all, we love our father, so you don't have to feel only anger. We're not entirely defined by our sin…"

"Love is nothing but a foolish word born from human's illusions." He heard himself retort.

"Wrath, Wrath, don't lie to me. You're still wet behind the ears if you think you can fool _me_."

He froze there, slightly irritated.

"Okay, now you tell me loud and clear. Are we taking this _stroll _to meet up with Sloth or are you supposed to interrogate me?"

She stared back right into his glaring eyes, her lip curving in a smirk as she slightly bent her head to the side.

"Oh King, don't be like that. This talk will stay between us, you know. I like to push people with their back against the wall. I'm just messing around with you and you know it."

He stood still, his brow furrowed, both of his eyes still glaring. She wasn't going to reach him like that. Whatever her little game was about…

"You look so confused, Wrath. It's no good. You met one of your perspective wife, but you just didn't care. You have one of the hardest missions among us all, to fit in the human world at all time. If you want to choose your partner out there, you still can. It could be that Amelia. Or it could be anyone else. It could even be me, if Father really wants to keep you in check. But I'd rather not. Formal clothes are way too restricting." She said, winking at him.

Oh, he wanted to stab her. But at the same time, behind the flirt, he could tell she was trying to help. Or well, she was trying to make him believe that she was trying to help. Whatever it was, her point hit home. Amelia could be his. Well, if she wanted him, that was, but Father didn't have to dictate even that aspect of his life. There was certainly a way to… But that made no sense! It would be too dangerous for Amelia! _She'll be in danger anyway_, his souls reminded him.

"Damn you…" he sighed as he turned on his heels. "Go see Envy if I cared. I don't have time for this."

Lust shook her head, but let him go on his own. He was off for some deep thinking.

"What's your goal, ultimate lance?" Pride asked after a few minutes.

"I want to see what he's capable of. Is he a weak human barely strengthened by a philosopher stone? Is he as cocky as Greed? To what extent can he restrain his anger?"

"I see. I'll keep an eye on him and let you know. This will certainly be entertaining."

"I certainly hope so. We still have years before the promised day."

A creepy smile grew on the wall behind her. And the shadows erased the smile on her own face, swallowing her whole.

…

There was a frisky breeze in the air that day. Bradley wasn't dressed for frisky breeze, but then again, he had been forced to run on his way here to make it in time. Sloth really worked too far from Central and he was never getting this kind of punishment again if he could prevent it. The train was leaving in fifteen minutes and that was all the time he got to give his goodbyes to Amelia. She was already there, charging her luggage in her wagon, with her aunt giving directions to the train station's worker. And to anyone and everyone she deemed needing direction, for that matter.

The young man still had to decide if he threw himself in the water or not. He felt clumsy and out of place. There were too many people out here, especially after walking mostly alone in the endless tunnels beneath Central. And his awkwardness was also starting to get on his nerves. As a Fuhrer, he would have to give speeches and such. There was no way he was staying like this. Like a mess. He replaced the collar of his shirt, taking a deep breath in. He'd rather have the chance to see her alone. Fifteen minutes was far from enough. Heck, three hours wouldn't have been enough either!

_Whatever you do out there, don't shake her hand_, his souls warned him teasingly.

He smirked at that, feeling a little more confident. He could just ignore her aunt and speak directly to her. Losing his time with doubts wouldn't get him anywhere. And at this point, he was ready to admit that Lust was right. All this nervousness and eagerness and the fact he already missed her, it all meant something. Something deeper than all the emotions he felt in his earlier life. Something as hard to control as the hate and anger his life was filled with.

"Amelia!" he called out, when he got closer, turning his smirk into a smile.

She turned around, her long braid following her movement gracefully, and she beamed at him so brightly he couldn't help himself but let his smile soften even more.

"I wasn't sure if you were still coming to see me off." She admitted. She gave a sign to her aunt, who took the hint and waved her goodbye, barely acknowledging Bradley's presence.

"There was no way I'd miss your train." He retorted.

She blushed and looked down, holding her hands in front of her, fidgeting with her fingers nervously.

"Are you… nervous, Amelia?" he asked, surprised to see her like that.

She seemed even more on edge than he was!

"Kinda. I haven't been home in a while. And the circumstances…" she started, letting it go just as soon, knowing he'd understand what she meant.

He nodded, biting his lower lip. He didn't like seeing her feeling uneasy. He got one step closer to her, his shadow falling all over her.

"You'll do fine. You should be thrilled, you're getting a vacation. And I made sure that there won't be any more attacks. We were able to retrace the pranksters." He added.

"Really?! Wow, Brad… Oh but you didn't have to…"

He shook his head.

"The army's here to protect the civilians, right?"

How it seemed easy to spur such a lie. He felt his throat tightening as he realized that she believed him. Guilt was back.

"I'm glad they have a guy like you among their ranks. We'll be sure that things will go for the better around here."

And there was more guilt to make his mouth go dry. If only she knew… He hardly gulped down, hoping she didn't notice his unease.

"You'd better write, huh, King?"

"I will, though I really don't see what I'll write about…"

"Anything's fine. How you're doing, the temperature, how Grumman's driving you crazy. Maybe even how you miss me, if you happen to have time to miss me." She softly added, on a lower tone, her eyes looking away from his.

He scratched the back of his neck at that, slightly intimidated. She was getting cuter each time they met.

"Of course, I'll miss you." He blurted out, finding it hard to keep looking at her.

For his original soul' sake, why did she make him feel so embarrassed! Just as he cursed inwardly for being too honest, he was rewarded by a smile and a rushed hug.

"Oh Brad, you don't know how that reassures me," she whispered against his neck. "Here I was, thinking I was being more of an annoyance than anything else."

"Foolish woman," he replied, clumsily wrapping his arms around her once he had come back from his surprise.

It felt right to have her so close, even if that meant leaving her so many openings to hurt him. He trusted her. She might be the sole person on this damned earth he trusted despite himself.

"Take care of yourself, okay? Don't go catching a cold. Don't get killed."

"Amelia… Don't say stuff like that. You shouldn't worry over me."

"Of course I should. I care about you, Brad."

_I've been a freaking idiot to ignore her for the past few weeks_, he swore to himself.

"That settles it. You're not leaving anytime soon." He declared.

"What?!"

She looked up at him, shocked by the authority in his voice.

"Unless you tell me I can court you as soon as you get back in Central."

Her eyes widened and she seemed to freeze for an instant, with her hands still on his chest. He grabbed her hands in his, not letting go of her gaze.

"Are you serious?"

The bell rung and one of the officer warned the people waiting that the train would be departing in two minutes.

"Dead. So what will it be?"

She blinked, her mouth hanging open, a small blush on her cheeks but her eyes were shining and she jumped in place, amazed as she realized that he was indeed serious.

"Oh Brad, I… I didn't mean to push you into anything, you must know that, and…"

"Time's a wasting, Amelia. We need an answer, or you're missing that train."

He liked how playful she looked now, how she was back to being herself. And she happy, so happy that all her uneasiness seemed gone. And he didn't feel all that clumsy anymore. Alright, he was getting pushy, but he was a blunt man and he'd stay true to himself.

Her hands went up to his face and she gave him a peek on the lips, shattering his confident stance with one butterfly kiss. It was too brief, too fleeting, she was already out from his arms, but still smiling as he was the one standing behind in utter shock. She sat in the train and winked at him through the window, playfully, still mischievous, with a growing blush on her cheeks. He just stared at her, mesmerized. He had jumped down the ravine. They were in for it now. But she wanted him. At least, she was ready to give him a try. The ghost of her lips remained on his. He had no idea how he would be able to wait for her return. But it was certainly worth it.

To be continued

I don't think Bradley ever felt that good before. If you think I made him a little ooc, or any character for that matter, please tell me, I wasn't entirely sure with this chapter. I mean, wasn't it too fast? Is it okay for him to ask her if he can "court" her? I mean, I don't see Brad, living in the time that he live, asking her to date him, even if the word certainly exist. Anyway, you know what to do, let me know what you think with reviews!


	10. Missing you

Hey guys, sorry for the wait. This chapter shall be one of my favorite thing in this fic. An epistolary relation. As in letters being exchanged between two people. I've done it once before, but it was so endearing… And now I got to do it with Bradley and his future wife. So, please, bear with me, there was a lot of letters here. I sure hope you'll like it. As for one detail in this, someone suggested Corsaire as a last name for Amelia. It's a plane name from the war, as most of the characters' names were chosen by Hiromu Arakawa. Thanks to this reader, Amelia has a last name to sign her letter. :D

I chose you – Chapter 10

_Hello Bradley, _

_How are you doing back in Central? I can't began to explain how surprised and overwhelmed I was when you asked if you could court me. It was so sudden! But, I think that just the way you phrased your demand, I got to know you a lot more. I hope you've understood that my bold behaviour as we parted meant yes, right? I was too excited to talk anymore. It was really sweet and I'm grateful. You know, I've never… Gosh, you're making me all flustered just when I write a letter, damn you!_

_Everything has been going fine around here. My parents are doing well. My father's all healed up. I heard something big would happen soon from the few soldiers here. I hope you're taking good care of yourself. Try to dress with warmer clothes. Winter's coming after all._

_Take care, King _

_xxx_

_Amelia Corsaire_

"So you asked her to let you court her? But I thought…!"

"Who taught you the meaning of the word privacy?!"

"What was her bold behaviour? Is that… Are those kisses she's sending you?" Grumman smirked, snatching the letter from Bradley's hands. "You learn faster than you let on, schoolboy."

"I swear Eli Grumman, I'm gonna kill you!"

"You know that if something terrible happens to me, you'll be court-martialed for those words!" The older man joked around.

"I'll show you something terrible!"

Bradley threw the blond man to the floor a second later, enraged and Grumman realized that he might have crossed the line. But it was too late to save his face from King's fists.

"Come on, I was just…"

The first punch connected with his jaw and the violence of it almost got his neck to snap about.

"Sergeant! This is no way to treat a superior officer!" Juliett interfered.

Bradley looked up at her, his green eye shining with fury. He knew he was overreacting. But it was stronger than him.

"I'm sick of being made fun of because I'm the youngest around. By the two of you. This is no joke, I'm serious," he added, pushing Grumman down before to get up, leaving him with his bruised jaw.

"Oh Brad, you really like that girl, don't you?"

He had no idea how to reply. He felt trapped. Amelia was happy but he didn't know where this was heading. He'd wished he could just worry about the way he was interacting with her. Not that she could die because he was interested in her.

"I don't write to just anyone." He retorted. "And I'd rather read her replies in peace."

"I got that. I'll make sure to warn Kimblee too." Grumman retorted, stroking his face.

Juliett raised her eyes to the ceiling.

"I wish there was at least one girl here to support me. I'll get crazy with you lot…" she sighed.

..

_Dear Amelia,_

_I'm glad to know you're doing well. The weather's ok. We've switched to our winter's uniforms. I can't wait to welcome you back to Central. Don't get too worked up, though. I'm really busy with work and we could be mobilized to Drachma. There's been a lot of frictions lately._

_Juliett introduced her husband to us the other day. He looked really infatuated in her and Grumman was so jealous I had to hold him back. He's usually flirting with Juliett all the time, it's the way their friendship works. Kimblee has been acting strange lately. He's nervous and grumpy, grumpier than me that is. I can't believe I'm writing this. I might be out on the front in one or two weeks. We're training a lot. I hope I'll get your letter out there without too much delay._

_By the way… I'm glad you accepted my courtship. You caught me off guard, as always. Try to worry about yourself instead of me, miss Corsaire._

_Take care,_

_King Bradley_

_Dear Brad,_

_I was so eager to read your letter, I was almost shocked to see you were barely acknowledging my feelings. But then I reached the end and I realized.. You're a man of a few words and you must hate getting emotional. It's already a lot that you write back. Drachma is a cold country. I don't want you to get hurt. But I guess I should follow your advice and worry about myself. You should tell me more about your squad. Juliett sounds really nice. Have you heard about Grumman's daughter? And why don't you tell me more about yourself, huh?_

_Where did you grow up? Why did you join the army? How old are you? I don't even know this things. I know you love meat and stew and that you dress yourself in dark colors. There doesn't seem to be any food that you dislike. I don't know why I'm asking all this only now. When I talk about you to other people, they ask stuff and sometimes, I'm at a lost. I hope you're not annoyed by my questions. I just think that those letters should help us in getting to know each other better. I won't be back in Central before a month or so. My parents needs me in their shop for now. We'll stay in touch. Make sure to always let me know where I can reach you._

_Take care, King_

_Xxx_

_Amelia Corsaire_

A week later…

_Dear Amelia,_

_We're currently in the train heading towards Drachma. I added my future address of the envelop holding this letter. We'll be working on defending the construction site of Fort Briggs, which should be our northern line of defense. Grumman is already complaining about the cold. Juliett is eager to see all the snow and Kimblee is messing around in his notes and paperwork. I was told I could us my swords more than guns on this battlefield. _

_You asked about me, so I guess you should know I'm more of a swordsman soldier. I have six blades and I've trained and fenced since I was a mere kid. I grew up in some kind of orphanage. I was really sheltered in that place. I don't really like thinking about it. We barely ever went outside, the other kids weren't friendly. We were always competing to be on top and have privileges. Don't go worrying about it, though, I wasn't sad. I never knew anything else. It was already like the army, so I joined. I'm a lot more ambitious than I may look. I'm aiming to become Fuhrer to change the way our country is working. I'm about 22 or 23 years old, I guess. I don't have a birthday, I was abandoned really early. But don't go pitying me on this. You were asking about where I grew up, so… I must admit I'm kinda scared to write this all down. What if someone else was reading this?_

_I'm not paranoiac, but… I jeep on thinking that I have to be careful. Anyway, I want to hear from you, so I'll send this letter the way it is. You asked about food… I'm not difficult. I've known hunger more than once, so… If I could choose, I would never eat porridge. It doesn't taste anything. But otherwise, well. Food is nurturing, so I'd take just whatever is on the plate. And what about you, Amelia? You seem like a really quiet woman. You do have friends, right? You must be talking with them about me. It puts me a little on edge… I don't sorry, the ride is getting bumpy. We're closer to Drachma. We'll catch up later._

_Take care,_

_King Bradley_

Two week later…

_Brad, you got me really worried!_

_You had mentioned something like a military school, but this orphanage sounds worse than the army. I'm glad you're honest, but I almost felt guilty for asking the question. Of course you've been sheltered! Oh Brad, I wish I could see you right now. I don't think you'd tell me so much if we were face to face. I miss your voice. I miss your smiles. Do you still smile? How's Drachma? Are the soldiers in place giving your team a warm welcome? Is it cold out there?_

_I was a childish girl, growing up in my old village, back here, far from every major Amestris' cities. There weren't many kids my age, but I had fun every day, playing with my dog or running through the fields. I was mischievous and curious. Now, I'm quieter, but you know me, I'm still curious. My favorite food, well, it's to share a meal with someone dear to me. It makes everything taste a lot better. Everything is going fine around here. I talk about you to my mother and the girl next door. They'd both like to meet you. I've told them just how adorable you are. I really miss you…_

_Take good care of yourself, Brad_

_xxx_

_Amelia Corsaire_

Two weeks later came the reply:

_I was blushing so much as I was reading your letter, even Juliett teased me! It's hard to have any time alone now. We're always on our toes. My sword is lying on the desk, the blade naked, ready to slash through anything. My sleep has never be that light before. We're constantly fighting back. I might interrupt this letter at any point, so I'm in a hurry to tell you all I have on my mind. You don't have to worry about my past. It taught me what was fair and human and what wasn't. It also trained my patience. And I'm impatient, believe me. It's funny how you didn't got impressed by the fact I want to become Fuhrer. I'm really serious about this, you know. Guess I'm always serious._

_Anyway, I'm having a hard time trying to picture you as a young girl. I can see you running around fields, but when I remember Grumman's daughter, I have some doubts that you could ever be that noisy. You're always composed. Just thinking about you helps me calming down._

_I really miss you. I don't know what kind of lie you told your mother and friend about me, but I'm not adorable. Certainly not. I'm kind of glad you can't see me right now. I'm cutting down people on a daily basis. It's safer than guns, because blade cannot jam, but… I don't think you want to read about that. Kimblee got wounded the other day. Grumman took over his rank and post for the time being. We'll stay here for a few months. I've had enough already._

_I get the impression this letter will only get you down when your own words really brighten my days._

_Please take good care of yourself,_

_Brad_

One week later:

_Dear King, dear Brad,_

_You didn't get me down, you just made me worry a little over you. You're trying to sound detached from it all, but you have a lot on your mind. You can tell me anything, I won't judge you. You have a goal to be out there. Becoming Fuhrer, that's certainly what I'd called ambition. I wonder what you want to change about this country. You're in for a lot of work. I hope I can help you along the way. It's really nice to know that I can calm you down. You're always on edge and so nervous. Of course, you're serious, but still manage to joke around every now and then._

_I'd like to see you, whatever's state you're in. I could hold you in my arms, at least. You seem to need more than one hug, King. We'll have a lot of catching up to do when we'll both be back in Central. I miss you too. Try not to let everything else get you down._

_Love, Amelia Corsaire_

A whole month later, she got his reply, which she didn't hope for anymore… The paper inside the envelope was covered with cracks and mounds as if it had been turned into a ball of paper and then smoothed back into a sheet.

_To my dear Amelia,_

_I don't know where to start. It's the nth time I'm writing this letter. I've been over it a thousand times, when I couldn't fall asleep at night. I barely ever sleep, but don't worry, I'm made tough. I heal fast, I haven't been hurt once since I arrived here. It's been over… 3 months since I've last seen you._

_I miss you, I miss you, I miss you so much I want to write it over and over, but it doesn't change the way I feel. It almost hurt. I'm starting to think I'm getting weaker and that I must be stupid. Just one word, Amelia, one word and I was on my knees. It's not easy to write this, you know. I've never… wrote anything over myself, except maybe my medical conditions considering one test or another. Nobody has ever talked to me like this, cared for me in such a way. I feel blessed, overwhelmed and even… scared. Where did that come from? You said love out of pity or something, right? I don't want you to care out of pity, you know. I don't know why I'm saying this. I want you to care, but…_

_There never was anyone to give me another blanket when it was too cold at night. There was no friendly hand in my hair when I woke up from a nightmare, or holding me up when I took my first steps, never had I seen a real, honest smile before… And now, with one sheet of paper, you're turning me upside down. You said I can tell you anything, but just putting your address on this makes me edgy. I'd better not send this letter. I don't want you to believe I'm crazy._

…

_Sorry, I know you're not used to such long letters from be, but I had to go and fight outside, so I took a little break. I don't know if you'd still want to hold me Amelia, after reading all of this. I feel as if I've been a soldier my whole life. As a civilian, I'm clumsy and completely lost. Heck, I can't even write back a decent letter, instead I complain over my sorry self. You mustn't believe that I really regret anything. All that I've lived made me the man I am now. My childhood was weird, my whole upbringing was weird. I can tell now. I guess I just want to be honest with you about it. So that you know what you're getting into. It's as if you didn't know me. I'm not adorable. I'm a killer, a soldier, I'm irritable, I hold grudges, and I'm too proud, even brazen. I've got an eyepatch and I'm grumpy. And those are just a few. So what is there to love, you tell me?_

_I'm not trying to lose you here, maybe I'm just messed up. I really miss you, I… I like you and I still want to court you when I get back in Central. Where are you now Amelia? Are you safe? I…_

_Take care, alright?_

_Brad_

_Brad, _

_I never meant for you to get so worked up! I almost cried over your letter, trying to picture how you were looking as you wrote it. You sounded so lonely, almost trapped, and I refused to believe I could really be the first one to care for you. What is there to love, you ask? What is there not to love?! You can be such an idiot sometimes. You're sweet and endearing, even if you had the tactfulness of an old man the first time we met. I remember each of our encounter. How you'd act like a wild animal, always on edge, always ready to bite back. Even now, you're defending yourself, as if my words were an attack. I don't want you to be hurt, I'm trying to cheer you up!_

_Right now, I'm in Central, back at my aunt's place. Tell me you'll be back soon. I really want to see you. And by the way, I'm sending you back your question: I'm an hyperactive overtalkative annoying woman who's too curious, I hold grudges too, I'll have you know and I never let anyone win an argument over me. Moreover, I'm plain looking, poor, poorly educated – I'll raise my voice if needed- and I have the taste as my grandmother. So what is there to like, now you tell me?_

_You won't lost me that easily, so give me good news. Please be safe and try to rest and sleep a little more._

_Love, Amelia_

_Xxx_

_P.S.: I'm not pitying you, unless you give up on me. Don't have me wait too long for a reply this time! *wink*_

_Dear, dear Amelia,_

_I'm sorry for my last letter. I was mentally exhausted. The fights are over. I shall be back in a week, so by the time you'll be reading this, I'll be almost there already. I can't write much, we're being reviewed in a moment. I guess I'll have to give you a thorough inspection once I get back to see if you described yourself accurately. Everyone's doing well back here in Drachma. Kimblee's all healed up and Grumman's made a few girlfriends in another squad. Juliett's mad at him, cause there's more than one of them. They really brighten my days, lately. Seems like this is all the time I have for you now._

_Be careful, see you soon._

_Yours truly, King Bradley_

Bradley was sitting in the train, looking out the window and trying not to panic at the idea he would be meeting Amelia in half an hour. He had realized at some point that sending letters was not good because he'd never keep a copy of the one he wrote. So if his memory wasn't accurate enough, he couldn't tell for sure if he hadn't gone too far in his revelations. And he still couldn't tell if the other homunculi did or did not intercepted his mail and read it through before that it was send to Amelia. All he knew was that she really was the one answering. He had kept her note from long ago and could spot her handwriting anywhere.

"Aren't you excited, man? This is the great moment when the warriors turn back into men and are greeted by their lovely wives who are craving for affection."

"Did someone hit you on the head, Grumman? You're divorced!" Bradley quickly retorted, not looking away from the windows.

"That wasn't me who said that, it was Kimblee!" Eli protested.

"Kimblee has a wife?!" Juliett almost shouted, shocked beyond words.

Kimblee simply sighed, rolling his eyes.

"What do you take me for, some kind of sociopath? You're also married Juliett and I happen to be older than you, so of course, I have a…"

"Who the heck can put up with your creepy smiles?"

"When do you ever go home? Do you have a home?" Grumman added.

Their colonel frowned, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Note to myself, next time, keep your smarty comments in your head, Rolf." He said.

"Wait, colonel, seriously, how come we've never heard of her?"

"I don't like to brag. My wife is a shy woman. I mentioned this so I could give you three one last order before that you're dismissed into the civil world of Central."

Bradley looked up, his body tensing at the idea of another order. He was sick of getting those.

"I don't want Grumman to interfere in my reunion with her. In fact, I want him to disembark on another stop than me."

"But my little girl will be waiting for me! My sweet Elisabeth has promised to wait for my triumphal arrival in Central. It took everything I had, and I mean money, to convince her mother to bring her here!"

"This is crazy, we're disembarking together, as a squad, and then we'll each go our own way. And I'll make sure Grumman don't interfere or bother your wife at one condition, sir." Juliett declared.

Kimblee raised one brow.

"I want to hear all about the girl that could accept to spent the rest of her life with Rolf Kimblee. Right now."

"You must be kidding."

_I want this ride to be over_, Bradley thought.

His patience was wearing out. He didn't care for Kimblee's shy wife. That made no sense anyway. All he cared about was to spot Amelia on the platform and run away with her somewhere they could be alone. He had practiced how he'd talk to her many times over in his head. Some part of their meeting had turned into pure fantasies and he had thrown them out of the picture. He wasn't going to rush things. Even if his souls, which were just a few now, sounded excited. He was weary of all the fighting, all the traveling. His beard wasn't perfectly shaved and he felt empty inside. He was worried that Amelia could have been put down by his last letter. He had said too much in the previous one and he didn't want to answer her new questions with words on paper. He'd say what he had to say out loud. He never thought he'd be such a nervous wreck right before it, though!

_Keep your cool. She's been meaning to comfort you all this time, it's going to be fine._

The train stopped and his thoughts derailed slightly. He didn't want to be seen staring at the platform intently, scanning it all for her presence. There wasn't that many people outside. Not every soldiers were expected. Their mission had been long. And not every soldier was getting down in this particular district of Central. They followed the few people disembarking at the station. Bradley wasn't dragging his feet, but he ended up being the last one in the line. He was wearing his uniform, as expected from him. Juliett had changed inside the train's cabin, into a dress that suited her pale complexion. Grumman was wearing a rich suit. Kimblee had his uniform. His gallons were shining on his shoulders. And Bradley realized that he was still a mere sergeant. Still down at the back of everything.

Lloyd Mustang ran up to Juliett, greeting her with a bear hug and a kiss that was far too demonstrative for most of the older people getting off the train. Kimblee went to meet up with a tall and pale woman, her dark dress making her look like a ghost in this chilly spring day. Grumman stood back, waiting for Bradley and they walked out of the train together.

"Is your sweet miss Corsaire going to meet with you here?"

"She's supposed to. Get looking for your daughter."

"Papa!" Anna-Elisabeth rushed towards her father, who immediately bent down to receive her with a hug.

"She's easy to find."

The little girl had grown a bit. She was about 11 years old now. He gave Grumman some space, searching the place with his human eye. The sky was grey, there was fog in the air and he felt the cold reaching him through his clothes. A few umbrellas could be seen and there was a slight rain. Wrath shook his head. Such a fine day to meet Amelia outside. He didn't even know where he could take her to.

And then he spotted her and the rain was gone from his mind. She was standing under a blue umbrella, looking around and forcing herself not to jump in place, as she tried to find him. He walked in her direction, repressing his smile and trying not to look overly happy. He wasn't going to react like a little kid. He was composed, he was calmed and his heart was beating far too quickly for it to be healthy!

"Brad! I thought I had missed your train!"

She had finally noticed him and was reaching one hand towards him and he… dismissed her with half a smile.

"I'm sorry miss, I'm looking for a plain looking and poorly educated lady." He said, barely eying her, but still registering the sheer surprise and doubts showing on her face.

"Wha…!? But King!"

He bend his head to the side.

"You're not trying to pretend you'd fit that description, would you?"

How he'd manage to keep a straight face was a miracle. All this fighting had been good to keep his composure after all. Her expression was priceless. She was standing there, looking unsure and lost and ready to get angry, but also ready to jump in his arms. There was so much eagerness in her eyes. And then her smile grew, since he wasn't walking away, just standing there, in front of her, unarmed and not wounded, and she shook her head.

"Get under this umbrella, Brad."

He obeyed, feeling his nervousness growing exponentially as he got closer to her.

"You're cute, ordering me around, you know."

"I don't think so." She blushed. "Don't you have anything else to say to me?"

"It's good to see you, Amelia."

She stared in his eyes for a long time, forced to stand on her toes so that the umbrella would be high enough to cover him. He wanted to touch her, to hold her, but he was scared. Had he the right to take such an initiative?

"I've missed you. And I wished you'd complete every sentence you started writing in your letters, you know."

They stood in silence, Bradley shifting from one leg to the other. He had had many scenarios in mind. He even wrote one of them down, before to tear it down to pieces.

"I…" he sighed. "It almost felt easier to write." He admitted.

"Aren't you a man of action? Just act. The worst that could happen is that I'd slap you."

But she winked at him and all his anxiousness vanished. She made it all sound so simple. He was scared of looking rash. He wrapped his arms around her, being careful not to crush her in his embrace. She tried to keep holding the umbrella, but he pushed it away, so that she would be sheltered only by him. His chin was resting on her head and he could feel her heartbeat, going just as fast as if.

"You have no idea how long it felt… Now, warn me, what could cause you to slap me in the face?"

"Test me." She whispered, messing around with him.

He tensed a little, wondering if he could have been fooled by a fellow homunculus. He bent down a little, to smell her in. There was no way it was Envy and she was way smaller than Lust. So then, it really was her. She could flirt too.

"You know, I've been missing you for months. Saying stuff like that…"

She shivered in his arms and he thought he could die on the spot, with all those confusing feelings ready to melt away his heart. His souls were just as confused as him. How dare she be that cute?

"Are you cold?"

"No…"

He gently pushed her back, so that their eyes could meet.

"Are you nervous, Amelia? You're avoiding my eyes."

"I asked you a question in my last letter and you never answered it."

His throat tightened. That had been on his mind the whole time. And now it was the time. To say with his own voice what he couldn't write down on paper. But it felt as if there were too many people around. They were still on the freaking platform, the rain was damping their hair. He took in a deep breath.

"I wanted to answer it out loud. There's nothing not to like about you, except maybe your aunt."

"Brad!" she protested, fighting against her own blush.

"No slap in the face, even for that?"

She shook her head, smiling through the chilly rain. She felt so small. So small in his arms. Could happiness be that fragile? If she fell ill or something. If anything were to go wrong. If his so-called family was to decide that this was wrong, that it didn't follow their plan. He needed her so much, it was almost painful.

"How far are the limits, huh?"

He needed to know.

"You think it's a game?"

Her smile was more than he could take. So he pulled her back into his arms, but not as close as the first time. His bare hand slipped behind her neck, gently pulling her face towards his. He was almost shaking from hesitation, but he controlled it, as he controlled everything else in his life. No more hesitation. He had had only a few seconds of her lips last time. She had to make amend for that. She was still smiling as he kissed her, and soon dared to grab his head in her hands, playing with his hair as she realized he wouldn't release her anytime soon. They both felt clumsy, but they weren't rash, rather gentle, trying to learn together. She tasted like tea and sugar while he tasted like chocolate. It was only when Grumman whistled at them that Wrath reluctantly let go of his girlfriend.

"You didn't mention a sweet tooth in your letters."

"Let's get you somewhere dry and warm before you get ill…" he retorted.

"Don't ignore me," she warned him.

He gave her another kiss, feeling a lot bolder now that a new bridge had been crossed between them.

"So that would earn me a slap?"

"You know, I'm beginning to think you want one…"

He rolled his eyes.

"Where's that blue umbrella you had?" he wondered, looking around.

"You don't need to get any luggage?"

"I always travel lightly."

They exchanged a smile.

"Ok then. You may escort me back home to my dreadful aunt. She's gonna be so thrilled to see you."

"I doubt it."

But he wasn't close to any sort of anger. Bradley was off on cloud nine. With rain. And Amelia.

To be continued…

Oh dear me, I've been working on this all day and I don't know if I like their meeting! I've been meaning to post this a lot faster. Well, please review to let me know what you think. This last part, their reunion, could have some change. Doesn't Bradley sound way not enough nervous? That's thanks to the adrenaline. Wait the next day. He'll be all back to being clueless and lost. Especially if the homunculi interfere with his new relationship… Guess this is my post Halloween none too scary chapter. Action will be back, with fluff as always! I exist for fluff! ^w^


	11. The way of being proper or improper?

God, I've been away for a long time, I know. I've been busy with school, school 's contracts (like working for my university as a search assistant) and me trying to have my driver license, and all the stuff around that, like christmas and family meeting and all. I've been dying to write on Bradley. Today, I've finally managed to drop off everything else even if I shouldn't and I conclude this chapter, which was supposed to cover a lot more stuff but turned into pure fluff. I hope the character aren't too OOC. I'll let you read for now.

I chose you – Chapter 11

Bradley wasn't entirely comfortable around Amelia's aunt, but it wasn't that bad either. Diner and the whole afternoon went by so fast, between talking and laughing and helping around the hotel. Bradley was still wearing his uniform and was thinking of getting back to his squad quarters, since he'd wished to have a little time alone with Amelia and it didn't seem likely that he could have some, when the young woman surprised him once more.

"You're staying for supper too, Brad. I'm not letting you go back to the army so fast. You're supposed to be on break!"

Her aunt suggested to lend him some civilian clothes if he was staying longer and wanted to feel more comfortable. Wrath reluctantly accepted to be led around by the two women for the rest of the evening and found himself eating more than his fill from a table that looked like a banquet. There was steak, chicken stew, meat bread and a lot of different salads.

"I hope you didn't go through the trouble of cooking all this just for me…" he humbly remarked after his third serving.

"I think it would have been worth it, but don't worry. My aunt is expecting a special guest later tonight, so half of it is for him. It's a guy for an important family line, a mister Armstrong if I recall it right. He wants to invest in the hotel."

"I see…"

Bradley let a small hint of jealousy hinder his tone, just to see how Amelia would take it and her smile was definitely worth it.

"You're a great comedian Brad, you really are." She added a minute later, winking at him.

It was her forte after all to pretend grandiloquently, he was just following her lead on that way.

"It's part of being a good politician I guess, so I'll have to be more than great eventually."

"Don't get all serious on me now, I want you to relax."

She sounded a little too maternal and he had to remind her where they stood. He was aiming to court her after all, not to be spoiled by her.

"I don't need to be pampered Amelia, I'm a grown man."

She looked distant for an instant, as if that reminded her of something her passed brother could have said once. But as quickly as it came, her eyes were back on him, lit up by that inner light that he never wanted to fade. There was more strength in that small human woman than in most soldiers he'd met during the few campaigns he fought.

"You don't get the meaning of that word, huh. Relax."

He sighed, but accepted to at least try. About an hour later, the special guest arrived, Mister Armstrong , and Bradley followed Amelia up the stairs to give her aunt the negotiation's space she needed.

"It's running late, I'd better go back," he observed a little awkwardly. He didn't want to go back, to be frank, but it certainly was the proper thing to do.

"Stay a bit more, okay? There's one or two things I wanted to get done," Amelia retorted, grabbing a hold of his hand and dragging him along the corridor until they reached her room's door.

"I wouldn't mind staying, but people will talk if I enter your room."

"I don't care about what people could say. Why don't you trust me a little?"

He trusted her, so he followed her into her bedroom, chastising his souls from their many suggestions of what his next move should be. A true courtship had to take some time. Moreover, he needed time to prepare himself mentally for anything more intimate than kissing. Though he wouldn't mind having one or two more kisses. Heck, as he remembered holding her in his arms at the train's station, he knew he would never have enough of her kisses.

She gently closed the door behind him and told him to sit back on the edge of her bed.

"I really wanted to have a chance to be alone with you… I felt as if my aunt has been checking on us ever since we came in here."

He could only agree with her on that. She sat next to him with a sigh as he looked around her room, which was tidy and small. The bed was made for one person, no more, there was a cute desk in one corner, really feminine and neatly kept. Books were lining up on a lonely shelf and a single wardrobe was all she had to stock her things. There was a window on the opposing wall, showing the night sky and the falling rain. There was no storm but it seemed as if the rain would never stop.

"I know it's pretty small, but at least, we can be alone here. You're feeling tired right? The train's ride must have been long. I never sleep well in trains."

He smiled, turning his attention back to her.

"I'm not that tired. The ride was long, obviously, but it was worth it. With you waiting for me right on my arrival."

She blushed despite all her efforts not to.

"You're really serious about me, huh?"

"I'm serious about everything. I'm trying to relax, but it's not as easy as you may think."

"You're too hard on yourself."

"I don't know any other way to do things." He admitted. "And I think it's okay to be serious about courting you, don't you, Amelia?"

She nodded.

"I just don't want you to feel as if you have to keep your back all straight and remain rigid around me. Courting is official and important and I'm flattered, but most of all, I want you to be yourself."

He sneered at that. He still wasn't sure who that could be. He once was human, now he was a homunculus. Number 12. A mere number. Was he developing some kind of inferiority complex?

"I'm serious too you know."

"Of course, I wasn't sneering at you, I just… I don't know if being myself is going to be enough to fit with my standards."

"Oh Brad, don't push yourself, just listen to me!" she said, gently slapping his shoulder.

He smiled at her, hoping to lighten her mood. It was strange to see her that serious. They shared a long gaze, filled with questions and needs that couldn't be asked at this moment in time. But he understood that mostly, she wanted him to rely on her. Because it was all she could do. He wondered if there were limits or if they were just supposed to talk. He bend a little toward her, just to see how she'd react. She reached one hand out, to brush her fingers against his jaw, gently, And her smile got so soft that he felt his heart melting. Before that he could grab her hand in his and kiss her fingertips as he intended to, she suddenly got up and out of his reach.

"Why don't you lie down for a bit, Brad?"

"I can't sleep here. That would be really improper." He opposed.

"I'm not talking about staying the night. Just lie down, okay? There's something I've been meaning to do since I received your last letter."

Gulping nervously, he didn't move from an inch, staring at her curiously.

"Just do as I say, I'm not thinking of anything improper."

He obeyed and lied down on her bed, though he was a little tense. She was rummaging in her wardrobe.

"Close your eyes and just relax, okay, Brad?"

He obeyed again, though it was hard since he was expecting a dozen of different scenarios to take place and his souls weren't helping him in being patient. She sounded mischievous and serious at the same time. A minute went by and just as he was about to re-open his human eye, he felt something warm covering him. He sat up, realizing she had put a blanket over him.

Amelia sat next to him, shaking her head.

"You can't stay still for more than a minute, can't you? The nights are still cold. So here, I'll give you another blanket."

For some reason, he thought he knew where she was going with that action. He remembered writing something about it in his letters. She reached her right hand toward his head, getting on her knees to be able to ruffle his dark hair. And that also was… His mouth hanged open at the realization.

"And now, at least one person has ruffled your hair."

Was she pitying him? She was smiling and he felt both vulnerable and grateful. It felt good, her hand playing with his locks. He wanted to lean in, but that would have been improper too, wouldn't it?

"Amelia…"

His voice sounded warmer than usual. His heart was quivering in his chest. Being cared for. Was that it? Not like a perspective Führer, but like a human being. He didn't know what to do anymore. All that felt right was to hug her. But now she was touching his face and it felt incredible. To be this close when he had wanted it for so long. To feel longing and that he was at the right place, right now.

"You look sad Brad. I'm just trying to help. I don't want you to have nightmares, I don't want you to doubt yourself. If there's anything you've missed before…!"

"I missed you, Amelia, nothing else!" he managed to say as he draw her into a tight hug. He felt close to trembling.

He was angry for not ever getting such attentions before. Angry for letting her in on some of his weaknesses. Angry for wanting to be cuddled like a child. Angry because he would have to leave eventually. Angry because she made him feel human when he wasn't. Angry because she was so sweet, so sweet that he had no right to bring her any trouble. And over all he felt a burst of relief, because she was welcoming him, without questions about his weird upbringing, because that was the one thing he couldn't lie about. He didn't know what a normal childhood sounded like. He didn't want to know either, so that he wouldn't regret anything. Regrets were below him.

As he held her, her hands gripped on his shirt, with a strength he didn't know of her.

"I missed you too, you know."

"When did you turn like that? I left with a mere kiss and now..."

She felt almost clingy. As if she had been scared, all this time, when she was cheering him up in his letter and trying to sound happy. Was it fake? Amelia couldn't be fake, even if it was to comfort him. He wouldn't have that! And despite his initial anger, he was flattered, almost impressed, but also scared. Things were moving on too fast.

"I don't want to rush anything. But I have the feeling I know you so much more than before you left... And you could have never come back."

He felt his throat tightening. He was forcing her to relive some of her worst fears.

"I'm not your brother, Amelia."

"I know. I've never held him like this either." she added with a held back giggle.

He slightly let go of her, to look her right in the eyes, holding her upper arms in his large hands.

"I know. And I can't die before to reach my goal."

Her smile turned sweet and his souls melted at the sight. She was too good to be true. Too good for him.

"Becoming Fuhrer, right? You never told me what you intended to do when you'd be Fuhrer. It's no small goal."

His throat felt tight at that. That was his cue to lie. Again. He looked up, away from her, as if in deep thoughts. And he was.

"I know. But if I do it, then I can ensure this country's whole protection. I can make the frontiers safer. I can even expand our territory to make sure there's enough resources for everyone. And when it's all done, less wars. Expand the state alchemist's research's programs, so that we have cures for illness, so it would be easier to rebuild the towns hit by the previous war."

Her mouth hanged open, in surprise and amazement.

"But why... Brad, why would you need to do all that? It'd took more than one life to reach even one of your goals!"

"I'll do it. I can't trust the higher ups."

"So you'll turn in one of them? You'll corrupt yourself?"

He shook his head, shocked by her reaction, by her hands still gripping on his shirt. Pinching his lips, he pushed her back, letting go of her shoulders. They were sitting across each other on her bed, their knees brushing as he tried to ease her fear:

"I'll stay myself. I'll reform the way things work. I'll get on top to make sure... I can't protect anyone as it is, Amelia. Only myself and my closest comrades. I need more strength, more influence if I want to protect everyone."

His voice was wavering. She couldn't deny this to him. He was lying, alright, but becoming Fuhrer was his only goal in life before her. If it wasn't for that, he wouldn't be alive now.

"But why do _you_ have to protect everyone?!"

And she nailed it so well, it hurt. He blinked, fighting against the anger he felt toward the homonculi and the soldiers that had trained him, raised him solely for this, toward her for asking.

"I... I don't expect others to have the same goals as me. I don't expect anyone to have the drive and the patience and the will to do this. If I want it done right, I have to do it myself. I've been fighting my whole life, Amelia, just to... to have what it takes to fit in. I'm an orphan. A nobody. The people raising me called every kid with a number. I was 12. And that was all there was to me. A number in the list. My name was chosen by a stranger when I got out of there and I hate it."

This time, he felt bad, especially as the pain and grief showed on her face.

"How could anyone... What kind of orphanage where you in, Brad?" she asked, wrapping her arms around herself, as if she was suddenly cold.

He sighed. Maybe being half honest about all of this was just going to drive her away. But he was already in too deep, there was no walking back. So he went on, his voice hesitating a little each time she looked a little more devastated:

"The worse in Amestris, I guess. You have to understand, kids without parents are a nuisance in a military state as ours. We cost money that could be invested somewhere else. No one wants to adopt someone without papers. I don't think I was ever submitted for adoption anyway. We were a waste of resources, so we had to prove useful. I was a fast learner and I trained hard, to fend above all else. I don't want you to pity me over this, I just say all this so that you understand. Now all that I aim for is to change this government so that it would accept refugees and orphans. I want everybody's chances to be fair. And to have that, I need to be on top of it all."

"It can't be right. I don't mean to say that you're lying, Brad, but... How can..? Was it an orphanage or a military school, or both?"

She sounded horrified.

"I'm not trying to complain and I'm not trying to gain your sympathy. I'm not that pathetic, you know. I'm just... angry about it."

He rested forehead in one of his hands, breathing hard and feeling pitiful now that he realized all he'd said. She was bound to be scared now. She was bound to reject him.

"Brad..."

"I don't want to dwell on my past or for you to feel sorry for me. I don't want to burden you with this goal of mine. I want to see you smile. I don't want fake smiles."

Her smile at that was so sad, it made him angrier still, but he accepted it nonetheless.

"You've been through so much. And you're ready for more. No wonder you're so restless and reckless."

He chuckled at that, but her eyes were still distant and he was worried.

"Are you scared of me, Amelia?"

She crossed her legs, keeping her skirt in place with her hands in front of her, looking at him with her head leaned to the right and then to the left. She grabbed one of his hand, a frail but brighter smile on her lips.

"Scared of what? Eye patch?"

She followed the black fabric around his ouroborous-tattooed eye with a finger before to add:

"It's a scar because you've been hurt. And your goal?"

Her hand drifted to the place on his chest beneath which his heart was beating and his breath caught caught in his throat. He felt so vulnerable. Had he been too honest?

"Another scar that you're trying to heal all by yourself. I can't be scared by scars. The fact you were called by a number before to have your name doesn't change who you are. It's just..."

Her voice whimpered at that and he looked away, hurt to see her so hurt about it. But he was touched too. She was so understanding.

"...another wound, healing too. But I'm not being fair with you here. I've never meant to add sorrow on your mind. You too have wounds that need healing, and scars."

"What?"

"You're too good to people. Too understanding. You barely ever ask anything for yourself, when all I do is taking and refusing to trust anyone."

He gazed down at her hand, still holding his own hand, caressing her fingers with his thumb, wondering how he could set things right. A single trembling of her hand hinted that he was right and she removed her arm, bringing it close to her chest, as if to protect it.

"If I said something wrong..."

"No!" she cut him off, looking back up at him. "I mean, no, it's fine... It's just... I realized I could be getting you down when I was trying to cheer you up." she said, biting her lower lip nervously.

"I got you down already. You're so quiet."

He wanted to apologize, but it was hard on his pride. She let out a heavy sigh, trying to relax herself a bit.

"I just wish I'd known it all along. So that I wouldn't ask and confront you with... all the pain you're keeping at bay."

"I'm made tough, don't you remember?"

She blushed before his smile and turned around, before to scoot herself closer to him, until their arms were brushing and they both had their back against the wall. She leaned her head over his shoulder, covering one of his hand with her small fingers.

"How tough?"

He looked down at her, only to feel her snuggling closer to him. He shivered. All those feelings. New feelings. He felt exposed, and small, and too tall at the same time. She was so sweet. And he had lied. His throat burned. His arm shook a little and he breathed out, hardly holding everything in. _How tough was he?_ No enough, it seemed.

"Just about enough, I guess." he replied.

"You don't have to be tough around me, Bradley. I know it's hard. You're back from a war and you're thinking about all the others that are to come. You're mad about it deep inside, maybe angrier than I am. But it's fine."

Her fingertips ran over his arm, giving him goose bumps. He had no idea it could feel good. He slowly, hesitantly, extended his right arm, so that he could wrap it around her, to have her closer. Her head in the crook of his neck felt so right. Her hands on his fore arm, holding him still, and close. He closed his eyes a long time, trying to take it in, all of it. While it lasted.

"I'm scared Amelia." he whispered to her.

"Why?"

"If I don't tough it out, I don't know what I'd do. There's so much anger inside of me. So much that I feel like I could burst at any moment. All the time. When I sleep. When I wake up."

"It's okay to be angry."

"Not like that."

"It's okay Brad. Sometimes, it's good to let it out."

He didn't want her to be right this time. It was dangerous to let anger out. He was Wrath. Pure, lethal wrath.

His shakings got worse and he cursed out loud.

"I've wanted to hold you like this for a long time. And even if you're angry, you're not pushing me back. Are you sure this is anger?"

"What else could it be?"

"Maybe you don't feel safe like this. We're close. I can hear your heartbeat. When was the last time you were that close to someone else?"

He gulped down. Was she always right?

"I... I don't know."

A sob escaped her lips and he held her closer.

"This... this is improper, right?"

"No, Brad." she laughed through her tears, tears that were for him. "It's just... It must have been so hard."

"It was fine."

"You're seriously trying to tell me you were never hugged before in your life and that it was fine?"

"Fine, I'm socially impaired. I'm shaking like crazy and I'm making you cry on top of that."

She shook her head, looking up at him, drying up her tears.

"I don't understand, when you're so human, when you're so likeable, so loveable... that other people couldn't see it."

"They didn't have your eyes. They didn't have your heart. And I did make some friends along the way." he tried to defend himself.

She stroked his face, liking the feel of his short beard under her skin.

"I'll end up doing something really improper if you keep that up."

"I don't care about proper or improper." she retorted, grabbing at his collar and pulling him down.

He could have resisted easily, but he didn't feel like it anymore. Instead, he followed the trails her tears had left on her cheeks, staring into her green eyes, touching her hair. It was wrong, his souls were telling him, this was totally skipping courtship. So he eluded her lips, kissing her forehead instead, only once, as a way of thanking her. Her hands felt cold, even through his shirt and he guessed it was because of her nervousness. He felt like a bundle of nerve.

"You're still keeping it all in, aren't you?"

"Of course I am."

Getting too close and his fantasies could take over and he had no idea if he was ready to face the consequences that could mean. She was still shaken. He wanted to comfort her, without crossing the line. And she wanted to comfort him, he could tell, but just her shy smile was enough to have his heart soaring.

Amelia surprised him by turning them both around, so that she was the one lying on top. She wasn't careful as he'd been not to lay her weight on him, instead, she sat right on his stomach, looking mischievous and playful.

"You need some of this stress out of your system, King."

"Brad," he pleaded, raising himself on one elbow and putting one hand on the small of her back, to have her leaning closer.

To hell with being proper! Their mouth linked softly, lips on lips, warming both of their heart. He felt her hair in his face and though she was dominating him from her position, he didn't felt that much more vulnerable. What he felt was more like need. Desperate need. But she was already moving away.

As she straightened herself, blushing, she was smiling.

"You're safe here, Brad."

He sat up, which made her slide down into his lap, with her legs spread around his waist and her face turned a deeper shade of red, but his arms were around her, keeping her in place.

"So are you, 'Melia."

He claimed her lips once more, this time a little more demanding, even rough and she accepted him, entirely. Almost welcoming it, since it seemed to be the only way he'd expressed his feeling. Her fingers were moving through his locks, running circles on his scalp, as he kept her close, one hand raising to the back of her neck, holding her head, his thumb behind her ear. The innocent kiss turned deeper, until her mouth give away for him and he gladly discovered her tongue and cavity, working on mere instinct. Their fight was a dance and back to a fight and Wrath soon felt a stronger need building up inside him. She moaned and he groaned in response, feeling his sanity escaping him. She tasted good. More than good. She felt so soft. He wanted to feel her closer. His hands went down to her waist, settling her more comfortably over him, looking for her skirt. Her back suddenly straightened, sending a jolt of panic inside him. This was the line.

He pulled away right then, as she tensed next to him, her eyes blinking, her breath as erratic as his. Her hands fell from his neck to his shoulders and he looked down, leaning his forehead against her shoulder for a moment.

"I'm sorry. It's... You're overwhelming."

"No, I started it, I..."

She was flushed and her lips were swollen. She covered her mouth, gulping down. She felt tensed and uncomfortable.

"It's just that this... this is starting to feel highly improper." she said.

They both laughed, but made no motion to get themselves out of this situation. Bradley was just really careful about not touching her in inappropriate place, like under her waist line.

"I know it's wrong, but I like this." he admitted.

She blinked, confused and flushing even more. He hugged her, putting his head over her shoulder and sheltering her in his arms.

"Having you this close. It really feel safe."

She mumbled something against his chest, stroking his back with her hands in appeasing motions. It almost sounded like a cat purring.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"I guess I should let go of you now..."

"Maybe you should... But I don't mind if it's just hugging."

He laughed in her hair, the brief, honest chuckle she had come to like. She was tracing patterns in his back, a gentle, calming caress. The need was gone. Not entirely, but another need was there, being discovered. Was this what being cuddled meant?

"I'd never try to hurt you, Amelia. And even though I can be rash and... maybe clumsy too... I want you to know that I really respect you."

"I know." she replied softly.

It felt as if all the hold he had on his emotions vanished. His shoulders lowered and he heaved a sigh, deeper than the ones before. Breathed her in and out and back in.

"I love you."

She smiled, he heard it in her voice as she asked him:

"Stay for the night, then."

"What?!"

He gently pushed her backward, to have some space and meet her eyes. She looked a little less flushed, but gathered her skirt to have decency once more. It had been able to see her knees for an instant and his souls were crying outrage as he laughed at them. He had seen much much worse during the war. The sick pictures ran in his head for a second, making him feel terrible. Something like that, something like rape should never happen to Amelia. Could never happen. He remembered how shaken Juliett was at the sight. Remembered how Gruman talked about murdering the animals doing those things. How Kimblee would talk about meat bag and simply walk past it as if it was nothing. Kimblee's eyes were always cold. Bradley had tried to shut back every horrors met, but it wasn't easy. He knew what was right or wrong in human standards. He had his own standards. And any invasion was wrong. He had been invaded himself, by countless souls. By a philosopher stone.

"Just to sleep. So that I wake up with you next to me."

He looked lost in his thoughts for a moment. She seemed shy as he reflected on her suggestion, as if she just realized how bold it was.

"Okay. But tonight is an exception."

She gave him a slight peck on the lips as an answer.

"You can court me all properly and righteously starting tomorrow, my good sir. Tonight, I just want to be in your arms."

"You really want your aunt to kill me."

"I'm old enough not to care about what my aunt thinks," she retorted.

They slipped under the covers, talking a little more, mostly over things they liked and disliked and the whys, to complete the getting-to-know-you they had started with their letters. Since the bed was small, they were forced close, in a spooning position. Bradley didn't mind it. Having her in his arms felt good. He was just worried about how he'd protect her in such a position if something was to happen.

What happened in the end was a nightmare. The big surprise was the fact that Amelia woke up screaming and Bradley was startled awake, almost falling off from the bed.

"What is it? Where...? Amelia?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Brad, really, I didn't mean..."

She was shaking and looked really scared, more scared than when he had told her about the fact he was raised with a number for a name.

"It seemed so real... I don't usually do nightmares..."

His smile was genuine and so caring, she felt calmer just from it, but he still gathered her in his arms, gently brushing a few strand of hair away from her face.

"What did you see?"

"It's really stupid."

"Of course not."

"I was in the cemetery where my brother is buried. There was a new grave, not far from his. Without a name. Just a..."

She paused, clearly hesitating, before to whisper:

"just a number."

"Not even a date?" he asked, hoping that would have her laughing, but she just shook her head.

"It was 12, right? It sounded so crazy, but it's stuck in my head."

He sighed, but decided not to linger on it.

"Brad sounds better, right?"

"I like King too."

"One day, you might be Mrs Bradley."

She blushed and pushed him away, laughing all the while.

"That is highly, highly improper, Mr Bradley!"

It was then the door cracked opened, before to be vigorously swung opened.

"What is the meaning of THIS? Amelia Corsaire!"

Wrath was met by Amelia's aunt's death glare, which would have petrified any living man. Fortunately, he was a homonculus man, but he felt a cold air around him, as if the whole room had turned to stone instead of him.

"Oh, this is not what you think it is. We just slept..."

"I dare you to finish that sentence Amelia! If you do, be sure that your father and your poor mother will know how degenerated your behaviour was under my roof. And you, young man!"

Bradley got up, understanding the message. The woman walked into the room, motioning him to exit the place.

"If I ever see you wandering around my precious niece...!"

Wrath gave her his best glare, which had almost killed a few soldiers on the battlefield already, but was still far from the look he'd have in a few years.

"My intentions are quite honourable, madam. I intend to court your niece, miss Corsaire, with or without your blessing. All I need is her accord."

He threw a brief glance to Amelia, who gave him half a smile. She was kinda shocked by what he'd just said.

"I'll come back in a few days. Take care of yourself."

"You too." Amelia replied while her aunt stood still, muted by the young soldier's bravado. That was a first. As soon as he was out of the room, though, the woman yells echoed through the place like a crazy glutonny's pleas for food. In fact, it was even worse. He gathered his things, shoes and all and walked away into the night. What he didn't except was the reaction of his own _family _to this new development.

To be continued...

So here is chapter 11. What did you think? Is there something that should be changed? Did I do a major grammar mistake somewhere? I wrote most of this, well, 9 pages of this in a mere three hours. Darn, I've pictured all that went on in this for like, the five last months. It was all planned out, but it's finally here. And I need feedback over it. Next chapter will come one day, I'm not near on giving up that story. Do you think the rating is wrong? Teen could be enough, but there's trashy violence on the way, but then again, I don't know if that will really happen. Maybe Teen is enough. I don't think the sexual tension and situation will get any more graphic then this. I don't know to be honest. ;) I'm sorry for the long wait. I can't promise any date of update, I have to many deadline to meet in real life to give me anymore of them. And since I'm starting to feel dizzy, I'm off to eat something and run to bed. Hope you had a great time reading!


	12. Grounded

I know it's been long, but it's not over, far from it. No Amelia in there, but the army will be back in importance. No war this time, but I've got something just as terrible.

I chose you - Chapter 12 - Grounded

Bradley had barely managed to reach his squad barrack that a soldier halted him on his way.

"If you would follow me, sergeant. Father's waiting."

He understood that it was Envy and followed his lead. He didn't want to wonder what was going on. He hadn't been contacted by a single homonculus for the whole war. He guessed it meant he was supposed to be lectured or something... He hadn't received any warning though. As they got down underneath Central, he was surprised by the silence in which Father's room was kept. It was dark and he removed his eye patch, stashing it in his pocket so that he could see clearer despite the lack of light. It was always a little disconcerting to explore the world with both of his eyes after getting accustomed to a one sided vision. Being open about the ouroborous tatoo might be the only reason why he liked being down here.

"Wrath, I realized that we've forgotten a few important things. Like giving you a family." Father's observed, sitting on his throne, his chin resting in his left palm.

"I never said I needed..."

He was cut short by the blond man, who was anything but a man, Wrath was sure of it.

"Here is your mother."

The tone was aimed to be entertaining, like a big announcer in a banquet or a party. Bradley still needed to attend either to know, but he could tell that this was a special occasion. Lust took a step into the light, her dark hair replaced by white and grey locks, held in a bun on top of her head, her arms crossed underneath a wool shawl that seemed pretty out of place. He blinked once, wondering if it was supposed to be a joke.

"I'll have you know that this is a wig." Lust whispered, pointing towards her hair.

She seemed slightly annoyed.

"Suits you well."

Father looked pleased by Wrath's reaction and went on.

"Here's your father." extending his arm in the direction of Sloth, who was wearing a tie for the occasion and sighed deeply.

"Being a dad is tiring..."

"I don't see a resemblance." Bradley observed.

"We also have your uncle." Father added with a smile, pointing Glutonny, who clearly needed something to eat.

"What sort of game is this? None of them can go out in the open and..."

"You also have a brother, Wrath." Envy self-introduced him, wearing normal clothes and a sharp appearance, with black hair and aqua green eyes, just like Bradley's. "You can call me Prince, I guess."

Wrath didn't find the joke funny anymore. It wasn't a joke. It seemed to be some kind of warning. As if to remind him of his place. He wasn't free. He couldn't shake them off his heels and had to remember at all time that he was a part of their group. A part of their strategy and plan. A cog in father's machine. His life was theirs from the very first day. And it would always be.

"Your other brother ran away from home. But there's still an important member of your family that needs introduction. Your future son."

Bradley was shocked beyond words at the title for this family member. He was still too young, still stated as a single man and now this…

A small figure came from the shadows, too small to walk on her own, but then Bradley realized that it was made of shadows. A smile crept, white and ghostly, made from sharp teeth. And another smile. And another one. Wrath raised his head, unable to voice any smart reply. This was too much. Too big. His souls were scared and seemed to run to the back of his skull as he blinked. Many eyes, all looking in different directions were now opened. The living _thing_ was filling the whole room.

"Meet Pride, the first of the homonculi."

There was something mocking in Father's voice. The soldier's face had turned a paler shade of white. He looked shocked instead of surprised. Wrath itself was scared. He had to hide it, but it was too late. He hadn't understood that Pride was made out of shadows. The idea filled him with dread. That guy could be anywhere anytime. They didn't have to let Envy keep an eye on him, when this one could keep an eye on everyone in the entire country! But there had to be some limit to its power. He couldn't be the strongest among them. And then, his mind registered the fact. Father had said your future son.

"I don't need a son." King protested.

It was coming a little late, but Father gently shook his head, as if to say it was no problem.

"Not now, of course. Maybe you'll never do. But I'm still building a container for Pride so that he can play his part. And I wanted you to know that you don't have to disguise the truth into something unbelievable. We can offer you a very real family with an entire back story to your life. A few scientists are working on it. Envy had some ideas, but he gets too creative sometimes."

Bradley cringed. They knew mostly everything, if not all of what had been the few last weeks of his life. They had to be reading his letters to Amelia. And as Pride showed himself out with a mere "pleased to meet you, brother!" Wrath realized how his position wasn't desirable at all. He might have been better off as the other potential fuehrer, with his brain rotten and his mind far off and safe in oblivion, where it couldn't be driven any more insane. To live his life, trapped like this, is was no different, no better. He hated them. But Father wasn't done.

"And that woman. Miss Corsaire, was it?"

Lust nodded, removing her white wig and Envy smirked in answer. More fear but this time, the youngest homonculus was able to conceal it. He wouldn't let them hurt the woman. If it was the only thing he could decide in his life, he still would. She wasn't prepared, wasn't manipulated by them and as far as he could have some influence on it, she wouldn't fall into their clutches.

"What about her?"

"So pushy." Lust whispered.

Sloth was moving on, since the show was over, getting back to his task, but slowly, painfully slow, as was his usual. Envy followed him with a sigh and Glutonny sat down next to Lust, asking softly if he could have someone to eat.

"She's not right for your purpose. Her family has no power, almost no connection to the military."

"I already have all the connections that I need. In a few years, I'll be standing at the top of this country's military. Having her around makes me look more human."

"Does it, really?"

Bradley's eyes turned harsh and cold, but his face showed no anger, no threat. He had to keep it cool. He couldn't lose himself here. He was a puppet, but a few strings had to be a little more loose than the others to make it bearable.

"The orphan boy raising himself to the top with his honesty and patriotism, seconded by a genuine and naive country girl. Too idealistic to be feared. Too good to be true, but great enough to be believed in. They'll buy it and they'll follow me."

"The highest of the generals might need to know the truth in the future, to back us up." Father warned, though he seemed half convinced already.

Bradley was talking like him, as if he understood all the pettiness behind humans…

"They'll get what they need to hear. If the truth can turn them into our servants, it will."

"Our servants?" Father repeated.

"Yours, of course."

_But going through me first_, Bradley thought bitterly.

"Fine. But look around yourself before to chain your life to one small and vain woman. Once you'll be married, there will be no change. If she better serves my cause in death, she'll die. Either way, your conduct must be impeccable. We've been waiting for years, Wrath. _I_'ve been waiting for longer than any of you could begin to imagine. Nothing, not even you will disrupt my plan."

"I live to serve Father."

"Right. Don't take me for a fool, boy. Save your breath for the human higher-ups. Refine your manners, but keep straightforward when you're down here. I hate losing my time."

Except if it meant amusing himself. Father had a twisted mind.

"Then, I shall be of," Bradley whispered, taking out his eye patch to put it back on.

"I'll see you out," Lust whispered.

He could have reminded them he knew his way out, but seeing the look that went between daughter and father, there was something else he needed to learn. He let her walk with him, as she pulled a fur coat on her shoulders, hiding her tattoo with it. She waited until they were out of sight to clear her throat and warn him:

"There are many women in the world, Wrath. Many of them, and all human, with all the weakness that means. Keep it in mind. We're better than them. Their emotions could only hinder you."

"Still worried about your younger brother?" he asked with a mocking smile.

Bradley still wasn't entirely comfortable. He knew he had to prove himself to all of them. Human and homonculus. He could never fit clearly with any of them. He was a mix of both. An experiment. He might be a mistake in Lust's eyes. But he was his own man. His own homonculus. His own monster…

"Maybe." Lust said cautiously.

The sound of her stilettos on the stairs was unnerving. He focused on it, on his steps, on the way she was gracious while he moved more rigidly, more soldier-like. There was refinement in his movement, or so he thought. The way he held himself, the way he was aware of every part of his body, of every sound around him. On edge. His shoulders were tensed and as he realized it, Bradley tried to relax a little. The meeting with Father was over. He'd be back to his barrack in no time, to the closest thing he had to a normal life since he got out of the scientists' clutches. He smelled something in the air. Something rotten. There was a taste like metal in his mouth. He gulped it down. He was a little hungry. He could use some sleep. Or a good training session. No meeting with Amelia before a few days too. He needed to focus on his career. On his part in Father's plan.

"Or maybe I wish something fun happened. I enjoy seeing human's struggles. Despair, fear. Strong emotions for small creatures. They're weak. All of them. You know how easy they break."

They walked out into the open air, filled with rain and dark clouds. Bradley's tattooed eye ached in its socket.

"I know. Get to the point."

"She'll break too. She can't be your strength or whatever sweet thing the human parts of your brain wants her to be."

"There's no delimited parts in my being that are entirely human or homonculus, Lust. I'm both, in every way. I don't need someone else to be strong or to hold me together. I'm supposed to find a steady relationship and the woman is easy to bear with. Most of them talks too loudly, they chirps in your ears, giving me the urge to break their neck, they wear flashy clothes or acts like whore. Simplicity is far better than titles and ranks for me. I don't need to look every way and try my luck with any weird young girl around the army's top connections."

"Try anyway. Show some efforts. Test that girl. She'll need to be supportive, to be the perfect wife. If she know her place and is ready to keep it, than fine. But think Bradley. Even if she is a country girl now, she will have to change. She will have to support you…"

Laughter around the corner of the streets warned them of a human approach and Lust instantly wrapped her left arm under Wrath's right arm, pressing herself to him in a way that was far too invasive for his taste, putting on a genuine-looking smile and encouraging him in appearing as joyous as her.

"Really, King?" she said as Eli Grumman walked onto the scene, with Kimblee in toe.

Bradley felt his anger flaring up. Another misunderstanding and more lies to come. Great! But it was too late to run away. Both men were looking startled and glancing at him with questioning eyes.

"Lieutenant, colonel, good to see you make it back safely too." he greeted them.

There was something funny in the way his voice sounded, and he wondered if his smile was looking too fake.

"Sergeant, who is that beautiful woman holding onto your arm?" Grumman asked.

Lust cocked her head to the side, softening her smile and blinking just once, with such class it was unbearable.

"Lucy, his sister," she said.

Brad mentally winced. Half a lie, but still a lie. His souls suggested him many options but his mind was made up the moment Lust had given her answer.

"My sister-in-law," he quickly added. "She's engaged to my brother."

"I thought you were an orphan?" Kimblee stated, clearly puzzled, and not in a friendly way.

The colonel seemed so calculative some times. Wrath knew he had to be careful around him. Kimblee was like a shark, when Grumman was more of a bear.

"When did he ever mentioned his family? It's a pleasure to meet you, miss Lucy, I'm Eli Grumman, King's mentor, or well, I'd like to think so."

She let go of Bradley's arm to greet Grumman with a graceful handshake.

"The pleasure is all mine. My fiancé really wanted to know who Bradley's co-workers were like. And I know he can be shy at time, but he was adopted quite late in his life, though he's like a real brother to me. I hope he doesn't give you too much trouble."

Wrath rolled his eyes as the handshake was still going on, Eli not being quite ready to let go of Lust hand. If he knew what her nails could do, he would be miles away already.

"On the contrary," Kimblee observed. "He's quite the perfect soldier around here. I'd like to see my lieutenant be as irreprochable. Let go of her hand, Grumman, you desperate man!"

Lust simply laughed it off and Bradley excused themselves by saying he had to send her back to his brother before that he got worried. As soon as they were out of sight, he whispered warningly to her:

"I hope you've had your fun, because you're not showing around here before a few months at least. I've said it already, I don't need a family for…"

"It will make you more human, little brother. And right now, this is what you need. To appear as human as you can. And it's fun to feed them with lie, they're so gullible. I hope you brother is as dashing as you."

Lust was clearly joking around and she had made a little concession by adding that he had been adopted when he was almost already all grown-up, which would explain his usual awkwardness. She winked at him, not warningly for once, but mockingly nonetheless. She knew he was annoyed.

"Be careful with that Kimblee. He looks instable."

"You mean like Envy."

"Precisely. It's gotta be worse since he's human. See you around, King!"

She walked away just like that, with the sun going up in the sky. The air was chilly, and Bradley's heart was heavy with worries, but his mind was set on a few things. Father wanted him to try courting a few perspective wives with the perfect pedigree before settling down. Lust was suggesting that he tested Amelia before to engage himself. His souls were warning him that he could lose her in the process. And as he finally got back to his desk, wandering if he could catch a few hour of sleep, gold tooth showed up, asking him down the basement for a few exams. Swearing under his breath, Wrath could have sworn his life couldn't get any worse.

…

_Dear Amelia, _

_I won't be able to see you before a while and we're going to be quite busy with paperwork, not to mention the latest problems around Central's streets. Be careful and please refrain from going out at night. I doubt it can be safe right now. In fact, I'd ask you to stay in and to be careful with the clients you accept. The war was win by Amestris, but too many people died. A movement is growing, about a potential switch to democracy. I'm sure you'd be agreed with his ideals, but their methods are quite different. Please take care. I'll check on you as soon as I can. Just… don't write back. Being connected to the military won't be safe in a few days, I bet it. Stay out of trouble._

_Love,_

_King Bradley_

…

"Flowers?"

"They're the perfect gift for a first date," Grumman insisted. "And if her aunt is angry at you, it will make a double good impression."

Juliett walked in with a sigh. Both men were sitting together at the bar, having a beer after a quite long day of paperwork. All the war reports were done and the city needed some new rules. A group of teenagers were running wild in Central. They were starting a new operation to make sure the citizens were safe and that the little rascals would be found before they stole any more stuff or destroy Central's property. It had started a week ago, as a celebration for the return of the soldiers and had turned into a full rebellion act. Kimblee thought the kids needed to be forcefully enrolled to learn the sense of the word "discipline" when Juliett was ready to bet a good spanking would put them back into their place.

Bradley was trying to understand why human kids would suddenly run amok. The celebrations had been wonderful, with alchemic fireworks in the sky, one military parade and… quiet funerals held in the back for the lost soldiers. There had been hundreds of them. Some of them were fathers or mothers and Grumman had suggested the kids were asking why the war had taken their parents by acting like petty thief and doing vandalism around Central. But they were working against the army. Destroying military's property. They stole guns, ammunitions and alchemistry's ingredients. The population hadn't always been quiet, but the country was small and hard to defend, hence the multiple wars and military states. Nobody knew like Bradley did that it was all part of a plot.

"There was a bombing in a factory in the south district" she said as she dragged a chair between both men. "They're getting rasher and rasher."

"They're not helping their cause. If people start getting hurt, they could be court-martialled as terrorists in their own country." Grumman said, his face falling down a little.

Romantic talks were over and the job was right back on their shoulders. It had been more than a month since Bradley had seen Amelia and just as long as Eli hadn't hit it off with some cute lady. They were both getting wary from the politics warfare.

"Maybe are they really terrorists… You know, disguising themselves as amestrian," the dark haired man whispered.

"I sure hope not. And anyway, where would they be from? Drachma was so heavily touched by the last fights…" Juliett objected.

Grumman ran a tired hand through his blond hair before to call for another bottle of beer for their sister in arms.

"I don't care where they're from. Burning down houses and stealing from local stores isn't going to bring their parents back, or removing the army from where it is. They don't discuss, they just leave everything destroyed behind them. This has been going on long enough if you want to know what I think."

"The Fuehrer will send us out soon if we can't stop them without the use of weapon."

"They are using alchemy and homemade bombs, Grumman, they're getting bolder and bolder!"

"King, please, lower your voice," Juliett warned him. "Parts of Central remains untouched and unknowing."

He winced at that and raised his beer.

"Bless the unknowing. We fight for them, to keep them blissfully ignorant." he said without thinking.

"Wish I was one of them," Grumman added, seconding his toast.

Juliett shook her head but raised her glass nonetheless and they went on, drinking to forget the teens running wild on the streets and the army that still refused to interfere directly. The humans were worried about a greater rebellion and civil war. Wrath knew Father wished for it. All he wished for was to walk around the corner of the street and check on Amelia, but her aunt had visited his barrack and asked Kimblee to prevent him from coming to her home. Such demands were rarely made, but Kimblee ascertained that Bradley could throw shame on his squad if he acted too rashly and had ordered him to respect a curfew unless he went out with other soldiers. The only exception was about meeting the selected wives from Gold tooth's file. None of his comrades knew about it. But the meetings were taking place, in small cafes or military offices. A ball was supposed to happen in a few months. And he loathed it.

"Why are you so angry at them, Brad? Aren't you just missing your Amelia Corsaire?" Juliett asked, nudging him in the shoulder

He groaned, looking down to his beer.

"You know what her aunt did and what Kimblee did, don't you? He can't visit or even write to her. We were talking about a potential meeting. He's been meaning to court her."

"Eli, stop yapping, this is all boring." Bradley warned him.

It was worse to hear someone else say it.

"This curfew order is ridiculous! Amelia is old enough to know what's good for her and a little courtship isn't wrong, her aunt must be mad!"

As she tried to punch him in the shoulder and missed her shot, almost falling dow, it was clear that Juliett was a little drunk. Bradley knew he had to stop drinking himself soon or he would lose control and that was out of question.

"Let's say my trustiness was a little compromised the last time I met with the woman. She is crazy, of course, but I have to keep a low profile anyway. With everything that's going on, we can't even walk out if we're not in civvies or we're getting attacked by those kids. If I went to see her, I could only bring her trouble."

"You gotta fight for her, Brad, stop mopping and man up. If there's trouble, you'll face it. You know you can face anything, don't you?"

He smiled at Juliett's words.

"We need to take you back to your house, Jul, you're not thinking right."

"I'm thinking… perfectly right!" she objected as Grumman seemed ready to help her standing up. "And don't try anything funny, Eli, I know what you're on about!"

He turned crimson, ashamed that she had such a small opinion of him.

"I assure you my intentions were pure, Juliett. You need to get back to your house and I doubt you can walk on your own."

"I can hold down my liquor, Eli Grumman. Even better than you do!"

"Is this a challenge?!"

"I think the three of us had enough for tonight. Why don't we escort you back, Juliett, for your own safety? I don't want your husband to ask Kimblee to order me more restrictions."

She seemed softened at the mention of her husband and agreed. It was a quest to pay the barman, since both men wanted to pay for their trio and Grumman ended up paying, since Juliett insisted that it was the only gift she could accept from him. He was already quite wealthy and Bradley still had to be promoted to see a salary raise anytime soon.

They weren't wearing their uniform, but even half drunk, they were clearly soldiers. As they walked out into the night, they were noticed. Bradley felt the same feeling from when he was out on the battlefield. He inhaled deeply, bracing himself. The cold air sobered him a little. Grumman asked him to drive his car as he helped Juliett sit in the back seat.

Bradley disliked driving. It made it harder to concentrate on the things directly around him. Left him open to potential attack, but he trusted Grumman and Mustang. They were like a brother and a sister. The closest thing he'd ever had like friend. Or cars for the matter. Trusting a machine instead of his own body was quite revolting. But he got behind the wheel. He could guess he was less intoxicated than any of them.

"Could you keep an eye out, Eli?" he asked as he strapped himself. "I think the kids might be on to us. There should be a curfew over the whole damn city!"

"Saw something weird?"

"No. Just a feeling in my guts."

"And Brad has the most trustworthy guts in the whole army, Eli." Juliett whispered, sounding incredibly dignified, as if she was speaking an holy truth.

"You know, this sound terribly wrong." Grumman retorted, grimacing as he looked around.

Bradley turned on the engine and heard it dying down almost immediately. Than a shadow fell on his windshield.

There was a bump and he could guess people had jumped on top of the car. A fire flashed in the night and the pub they were in burst into flames. The masked teens tried to pull open the doors and banged on the car, swearing and yelling insults at them.

"Good. They got us trapped."

Wrath missed his swords. And mostly his gun.

"I think I'm going to be sick." Juliett croaked.

"Not in my car!"

"This is NOT the time!" Wrath chastised them

"You soldiers cowards! You think you know everything! This country doesn't have to be run by military heads. We don't want your wars anymore!"

_I don't want them either. But you're asking for a fight_, Bradley thought.

To be continued…

I don't know if the whole situation is clear, but I like how this chapter will help Bradley advancing in the army. Revolution!


	13. It's just a warning

So, a new chapter, now, already. A lot of things take place here. Actions is back. And Amelia will be before the end of this chapter, I promise! Thanks for the reviews, they keep me writing faster ! :D

Chapter 13 - I chose you

Bradley was sitting in a car surrounded by young civilians that were yelling at him and Grumman and Mustang. They were also hitting the car and trying to break the windows. There wasn't much time left to do something. In the back, the pub was burning. Bradley exchanged a look with Eli.

"You two stay in the car."

"But…!"

"You're not letting Juliett out in this. Keep her safe."

Juliett was drunksick, even though she would have been the first to jump in the fray if any of the guy would have left her the chance.

"Be careful, King!"

His comrades rarely called him King. Eli thought the name was a little too flashy and didn't want Bradley to turn almighty on them.

Wrath unlocked his door and let the teenagers pull on it, but he held it back, so that it wouldn't open entirely. He was stronger than them. That had been a bargain on his side, but he needed some momentum to get out of there. Putting all his strength in his right shoulder, he pushed the door open right on the two guys who were trying to wrench the door ajar. They were knocked back and he managed to jump right out of the car and to close the door behind him, locking it in a matter of seconds. His friends were safe. For now.

"Who do you think you are?" the kids roared at him.

He shoved them back with a few punches, his single eye glaring at them threateningly. He wouldn't yell. That wouldn't be intimidating. Though he was mad. Raving mad with fury and anger. It boiled in his brain, in his blood. But he held it back. He made a wall of ice in his mind, in which all the kid were frozen, behind which the anger and his few souls were trapped.

"And do you think your petty rebellion will bear any fruits? Do you know who are in this building you put on fire? Civilians. Innocent people, just like you. Or well. Just like what you should be."

They seemed angry at him, one of them had a knife and was ready to use it, some others had gun.

Bradley raised his hand, opening his jacket to show them he was unarmed. Then he removed his eye patch, showing all of them the scar on his eyelids that were tightly shut over his tattooed eye.

"I gave an eye for you lot in the last wars. An eye and that's how you pay us back."

That seemed to freeze them in place. A little. And then they looked around, as if lost and confused. But the older of the gang rallied them quickly with his yells, warning them against the lies of a soldier.

"You could have lost that eye anywhere. And it wasn't for us. It was for your boss, you military dog!"

Spits and punches and kicks fell all around Bradley. He dodged most of it, walking through the group of teenager, towards the pub that burned, as people yelled within it, asking for help.

"Why are you trying to accomplish here, kid? Can't you hear them? The people dying right behind your back. Let me through. I'm going to rescue them. And then, when I'm done, if you still want to spit on me or try and fight me, you can."

The rebels looked shocked and shaken. Some of them had second thoughts.

"This pub is always full of soldiers! They're like soldiers themselves, the owner, the barmaids, barman, all of them. We're attacking the roots of the problem!" the group's leader observed.

It seemed to reassure his guys, but they still let Bradley through and watched him walking into the fire, right into the fire, as if it was nothing. The hot air was burning his nostrils and lungs. He closed his human eye, using the tattooed one to see through the fog and flames. A few clients had managed to escape through the back door, but two people were still stuck inside. They had been close to the center of the explosion that had caused the flame. A woman had received shards of glass in her leg and the barman was stuck under fallen planks of wood from the ceiling. The fire was hungry and running fast. Soon, it would be impossible to breath. Bradley held his breath as he tried to forget the pain in his chest and the anger that was almost pulsing within him.

Such fools those humans were. Fools for thinking they knew everything. Fools for hurting their own kind. All those weak lives. All those people. Had he been fighting for them? Had he really been fighting for them? No, he thought to himself. Amelia was the only one he fought for. And himself. He raised the fallen floor in the air, painfully away of the burns on his fingers, of the burning in his lungs. He needed fresh air. He could endure longer than human would, but he was more fragile than the other homonculi. He couldn't regenerate himself. His wounds needed to be healable.

"Drag him out." he whispered in the crying fire.

The woman helped him, pulling on the barman. She was crying and coughing and shaking and so was the barman, but they managed to crawl away from the fallen planks. Bradley let go of his charge and pulled both human up. He wouldn't be coming back. His souls were begging for freshness. His ouroborous eye was hidden behind his scarred flesh and his human eye was blinking desperately in the fog.

"It hurts." the woman yelped.

"Be strong. We're almost… " he coughed, giving up on talking.

Crossing the pub to the front door was hell on earth. Breathing was hell. Staying up was hell. Bradley felt a throbbing in his palms and fingers. He had no idea what was going on with his comrades back in the streets. The fire might run into the city. There were two things on his mind. Father would be mad he saved people and his anger was nowhere near gone.

Then, as he blinked and thought it would never end, they managed to walk out from the fire, in the fresh night. The difference in heat was so great, he felt tears in his eye. But those were there to help him see after all this fog.

He got both wounded and fragile human far from the fire, far enough so there would be no risk. Then he looked up to the rebels, who were standing there, arguing between themselves. Their leader seemed in trouble. And Bradley had some anger that needed to be let out.

"Anyone called for help? Of course not, help would come from the army and that's against your beliefs. You know people could have died in there? And what if the fire run wild and more house fall down on people's heads?"

The teenagers were speechless before him, so he shoved them around, to walk up to their leader. He grabbed the young man by his collar. He had bright blue eyes and blond hair and was in his late twenties. He grabbed Bradley's wrists, to force him to let go, but Wrath was beyond mercy.

"You blow up houses, burn down building, attack off duty soldiers. I'm a sergeant. A mere sergeant, you hear? You want my tags? My full name and my blood? I'll give you all of them. But first, you'll give me answers."

"Let go of him, you…!"

"I'm not killing anyone tonight, unlike you, rebels!" Bradley protested.

He had the intuition they could be talked out of this.

"I'm not telling you anything, dog of the military. Our cause call for a few sacrifices."

That man was a lost cause. But the other followed him.

"And how those that work? How is that different from your so called dog of the military? What's your cause about? How come you can't talk to us?"

Bradley held tighter on the man throat to make him understand he could hurt him.

There was a dozen of young people in this group, eleven of them staring at Bradley and their leader. They were scared, doubting what had been done tonight.

"We… we want to control our own country. One single man can't…"

"Aren't you the only one giving orders to those guys here? Aren't you able to think for yourselves if this is your ideal?"

He snapped at that, did something with his fingers on the nape of his captive, having learn a thing or two from Lust about human weakness. There was a knot in their neck, that if pressed adequately, could render them utterly unconscious. It wasn't supposed to work on every of them but this time it did. He let go of the leader, who fell like a rag doll.

"You killed him! You bastard!"

The few guns were raised and Bradley raised his hands, his green eye still flashing with anger and threats.

"Check on him before to shoot. He's just sleeping. Think for yourselves for once. If you want to take over the army or to change the way this country works, there are other ways. They don't need to be subtle, but they don't need to get people killed either."

It was weird how this bunch of sheep seemed ready to believe him. They lowered their guns, talking to themselves. Back in the car, Eli was staring at him, astonished. He had walked into a fire, almost killed a gang leader and he was now disarming the said gang. But this wasn't enough.

"Who are you?" One man asked.

"A simple guy, trying to make his living in the army. And who are you?"

"Revolutionaries."

"Anyone who know water alchemy and can put out this fire?"

They shook their head. Sirens cried in the night. People had been watching from the windows. One of them must have had a phone and made the phone call to the army. Firefighters were in the military too. They had a monopoly and watched over everything. But Amestris had been born on suspicions and knew nothing else.

"Well then, I guess you should all be off before that the other soldiers get here. How about coming with me to HQ? You could take over. Or talk things out with my superior officers. Getting someone to listen to your complaints and see your points. What do you think?"

There was a lot of hesitation and Bradley was starting to suspect that half of those people were here because it had sounded like fun, and not because they truly believed in their so said ideals.

"Don't you have a spine? Go home or come with me, it's a simple decision! Take real action, without hiding your face and identity in the dark of the streets."

Bradley hadn't really planned all of this. But he was born a leader and those sheep needed one. In the end, most of them agreed to walk with him. They gave up their guns and knives, which all went into Eli's car's trunk, while the indecisive ran away, carrying their fallen leader. Wrath walked among them, in the streets, gathering more and more people as they went on, and talked, and argued and agreed. He wasn't as harsh as he had been at first, but without getting lenient. He had challenged their convictions and was now trying to get them to believe the military wasn't entirely wrong. That they needed to give it a chance. To get to know military people. He grieved their lost one. Remembered fallen comrades in the names of fathers or brothers and acted more human than he had ever before, except when he met Amelia. As the full group was approaching his base, their numbers had grown to at least a hundred persons. His name was in every mind. King Bradley, the mere sergeant, who had had the balls to gather them up, as peacefully as possible.

Words over it ran all over the streets This could easily turn into a riot if not handed carefully.. The soldiers were prepared for such a large group and welcomed them with bats and guns. Bradley hadn't expected that. He was brought in front of the gathered people, like some kind of messiah. He cleared his throat, still covered with ash and dirt.

"I have men and women here who asks to talk to the leader of their country." Bradley said.

"Since it's already late in the morning, I think they could use a place to sleep in a little." Kimblee said.

The prison next to the headquarters was empty and the people of the city were forced into it, without any more talks. Girls, man, elder, they were surrounded by a least three hundred soldiers, who had been ordered there by the Fuehrer himself. Bradley tried to calm down his comrades, to warn them not to use force. Those were civilians, unarmed, unprepared for a fight. In a war, there were some warning, as the name suggested. But he was dragged away, ordered to remain silent if he wasn't going to help bringing everyone behind locks. Blood was spilled, jaws were broken, feet were stepped on and in the early morning, crying and shouting could be heard from the heart of the city. Smoke raised in the air, from the north, where the Fuehrer's house stood. Things were looking grim. And Bradley knew that for once, it was his fault.

Newspapers were flying around Central City with King on the first pages. King the soldier, who won a promotion to lieutenant by arresting at least a third of the rebels in one single night. It wasn't the publicity King had expected. Then again, Wrath wasn't sure what he was expecting.

Kimblee was laughing at the credible civilians while Juliett was mad and Grumman a little shocked. Had their comrade been foolish enough to believe the Fuhrer would accept to talk to low civilians? Politics didn't work like that. But Bradley had handled a crisis peacefully, it was undeniable. Another article made it clear that he saved two lives, if not more, by rescuing people in a raging fire. Though few red it.

"This isn't going to make you popular." Eli warned him as Brad joined the crew, his freshly won gallons shining on his shoulder.

"I didn't mean to get popular. I tried to follow the rules." he retorted.

He needed some sleep and felt angrier than last night. This whole thing was going to backfire on him. Now Central knew him. And his reputation was already terrible. Worse, Amelia was bound to read the newspaper, if her aunt didn't throw it in her face, laughing at him all the while. His souls were really not helping his case, drawing such bad scenarios in his mind.

"Well, you didn't. This turned into the biggest arrest of the century! More than a hundred civilians. They thought they would be heard!"

"I thought it could be arranged. If the Fuehrer refuse to listen to them now, civil war is unchangeable. And I don't like any side right now."

It wasn't an entire lie, but tension was bound to raise if no one act to calm down the people. It was a test. Father had warned Bradley that his actions had been too rash. He had tried to undo the problem Envy had so subtly caused in the nation. Wrath thought this was quite infuriating. Doing wars was one thing. Killing the very population he was supposed to govern. They would be his possession one day. His to govern, his to protect and his to kill. But there was no possession, no his. He didn't belong to himself in the first place. And that drove him quite angry.

"First he doesn't want us to use weapons against them, now he refuse the talks I've managed to bring right to him. I'm doing all the job to keep the whole city in peace."

"Since when do you believe in rainbows and fairies, Brad? You think talks can mend this situation?"

"If we're talking about civilized people, than yes, I think so. Where were you in strategy class?"

"I was trying to find the pieces of the fuehrer's daughter, that's what I've been doing while you were off I don't know where! They've been assaulting military's properties house. The girl was killed, crushed by her own room. Her body was lying in pieces all over the place!"

King paused, looking back at his friend, wondering if this had been the handy work of true civilians or Envy's dirty job. Eli looked gruesome and his face was the palest white Bradley had ever seen. He hardly gulped down, sick pictures of dissassembled pieces of anatomy lying around a battlefield. Walking on a fresh and bloody hand. Tripping on a lone torso without legs. He remembered. The smell of blood, its taste in the air. The anger to be helpless in front of it all when he was supposed to be so strong. And still, he couldn't control anything.

"When did that happen?" he asked.

"While you were off walking along the streets with those people, talking about peace treaty and a better world!"

"So none of the people walking with me could have done it." he quickly observed.

"The Fuehrer doesn't care! I wouldn't care either if anyone did that to my girl. She was still just a child."

Pain ringed in Grumman voice, laced with resentment and fear. Known officials could be the next ones on the list. Bradley remembered how hungry Gluttony was the other day. How he preferred to eat woman and somehow, he wondered if some pieces of the girl were missing. He shuddered, disgusted. Now the pictures were even sicker in his mind and it was hard to convince his souls to forget them.

"Why did they asked _you_ to do it?"

"I don't know, maybe because I let you run wild with those civilians when I was your superior officer yesterday."

Bradley felt a pang of guilt. Not because he liked Grumman's girl. Children were pretty annoying to him. But he could understand the longing Eli felt. The affection. How he could see his own daughter in the place of the Furher child.

"I'm sorry, Eli, really, this is getting so out of hand. I might have been… naïve to think I could solve everything, but I was acting on the spur of the moment. Why isn't the news of this attack on the fuhrer's family out? They're keeping it secret, right?"

The world "naïve" had burned his throat and tongue. To lower himself to a human level. He had been playing the role he should play later on. Maybe not subtly enough. Maybe had he ran over a few steps. But still… It had felt so right, to walk among all those people, as a shepherd followed by his herd, as a true king.

"We gotta get them out."

"You're not pulling any more stunt before a few weeks, my friend." Kimblee warned him.

He had been standing behind, watching over his subordinates for a while and Bradley had barely noticed him. His pale face looked like that of a predator, his nostrils flaring, his mouth twitching into his wicked smile. He wasn't happy to see Bradley raising through the ranks so quickly. Maybe did he see Wrath's actions as a betrayal.

"It was good for you too, wasn't it?" the young man retorted without thinking. Usually, he was most careful of his use of words and of his ton. But now his impatience was getting the better of him.

Kimblee caught him by his collar, trying to move him to no avail, but remaining as cold as he replied:

"You think this was good? The only reason why you weren't braided a traitor was thanks to the other soldiers that locked down all your little friends! And the streets are worse than before. The population is mad. Some of the people that were arrested weren't even parts of the rebels. They're journalists, cultivated youths, girls from good families, children of fallen soldiers. Usually, they would be untouchable. The left rebels will get worse."

"Not if we let them out."

Bradley knew he wasn't working for Father's wishes, but he needed to save faces. He couldn't just kill civilians just to bring more blood on another crests.

"Let me worry about that. You're still nothing but a lieutenant with a big mouth. I'll give you a free day. You can patrol the city and get killed out there for all I care."

It was clear, too clear for good taste but Bradley wasn't completely surprised.

"Fine, then."

He walked away, even if Grumman called him back. He didn't know what to think. He hadn't trusted Kimblee so far, but he was still shaken. They were all sharks. But he wouldn't be like them. This was his first promotion. He wasn't going to stop there. He wasn't going to let Kimblee's jealousy stand in his way.

…

Bradey had barely gotten out of the military perimeters and into the city when he noticed Amelia on the street. It was late in the afternoon, the newspapers had been all over Central and though they were lacking photograph, his name was on many lips. He wondered what could be going on in the young woman's mind, but she didn't look too pleased to see him.

She walked with her hands in her pockets, her long hair kept in her usual braid. It was raised on her head and he thought it was beautiful. She always looked beautiful to him, his souls warned him. He was getting attached and sentimental.

"I've been meaning to see you sooner," he greeted her, but it was the only words he would be allowed.

"How could you do this?!" she asked, her brows frowned, her voice slightly higher than usual.

Her green eyes were shooting bolts of lightning and he took a step back as she aimed a threatening index finger at him.

"What's wrong?"

"You tricked all those people! Said they could talk things out and now they're in jail!"

It was exactly what he'd feared would happen if she learned it. Then again, this was the first time he was openly acting for the army, the first time his actions were reported.

"I…"

"You lied to them! Fouled them. What was fair about that?"

"Would you…"

She poked him in the chest.

"And you got a promotion on top of it all. Is this how you're supposed to reach your goal?!"

That stung, deeper than the slight burn in his chest. There were burns on his fingers, from the fire and his hands didn't manage to catch her wrists as she kept venting her anger out on him. He had deceived her, just as he had deceived the citizen that were now locked up in cells. People were looking at them, but for once, it just added on his guilt. And shame. The last person he didn't want to deceive was her.

"How could you do this, when you said you wanted fairness for everyone?"

Not a whole lie, but another one, once again. He hardly gulped down. Still having sick pictures in his mind. Realising that people could associate her with him and that the homonculi wouldn't be the only problem.

"You shouldn't be seen with me right now," he tried to warn her.

But she shook her head, still angry at him, still not ready to listen. It felt unfair. He wanted to explain and defend himself, to remind her that he'd been through a fire, that he had been threatened and seen his friends threatened, even though they were hiding in a car. Grumman's car was at the garage, its metal deformed. If things had went on like this, all the three of them could have gotten quite hurt, or even killed.

"I don't care about…!"

"Would you listen to me a minute?!"

They were interrupted by curious bystanders.

"Is this man King Bradley, miss?"

She looked up to the man asking, who happened to be built like a giant and had shoulders that would make an Armstrong man look like a frail flower.

"I…"

She hesitated. Which meant she didn't entirely hated him, but Bradley was now worried for her own safety.

"Is he importuning you?" the gentleman insisted.

His knuckles seemed to itch for a fight and Bradley knew he would win, but not without one or two hits.

"It would be the other way around in this case. I'm just giving him a piece of my mind."

Bradley knew staying out here any longer was a mistake. He knew it. He quickly checked their options. The wall surrounding the soldiers' quarters were on their left, about eight meters tall. Too high for him while carrying someone else. Too high for him without anything to raise himself first. On their right, the tall man. In his back, a crowd, in the front, another crowd gathering. People whispering to each other. This wasn't good.

"Are you King Bradley?" the tall man asked him.

Bradley felt his tattooed eye itching in its socket. Turning his burned hands into fists hurt. The air was still cold. He might have catch a cold yesterday, letting himself get excited in that crowd. He'd never been among this many people except soldiers.

Wrath remained silent, exchanging a look with Amelia. Her anger was slowly receding, though it wasn't entirely gone. She didn't mean to cause trouble. All she wanted was to see if he was still the same man that had talked to her about fairness and justice before to sleep next to her. He wanted to convey many words in his single eye, for her to understand how sorry he was, how guilty he felt, how stuck he had been yesterday. But all his look was saying now as: please trust me. He could jump over the crowd. He could run fast enough, even while carrying her. But if she resisted, it could go wrong.

"We're not looking for trouble," King whispered. "If you're angry with me, if you want a fight, it's fine, but we're leaving the lady out of this."

How chivalrous. How preposterous. He had shown weakness already. He was running out of time. Now the man knew that Amelia mattered to him. Everyone in the crowd knew. If his brothers and Father wasn't already enough.

"My sisters weren't asking for trouble when they followed you yesterday." the giant replied.

He had deep dark eyes and a broken nose behind his long, dark hair. Not Amestrian, his face was sharper, tanner. Xinese? Maybe. Bradley didn't care, but he was analyzing still. As much as the crowd circling them. Two rows of people in circle. A man taking out a knife. Angry faces. The seconds stretched and Amelia was growing paler.

"I don't control the whole army, only my own acts," the soldier remarked.

Amelia made a face, as if she was annoyed. Was he running away with this statement? Was he deceiving her again?

"Lucky you're not in charge of the full army. I don't wanna know what you do."

Anger was back, full rage. This was so unfair. Controlling the army was his birthright. He won that right many times already. And he still had to do it all over again. The man took one step towards them, raising one fist. People seemed ready to drag Amelia out of the way, but Bradley couldn't trust them. They knew she was involved with him. They could take their anger out on her. So he decided he had wasted enough time.

He wrapped one arm around her, launching himself in the air and dragging her with him. His jump was about three meters high. Amelia cried out in fear. This was the first time he was showing her his acrobatics skills. He turned her in his arms, carrying her bridal style as he got running. Angry cries and footsteps followed him, but he was fast.

"Are you mad?" she asked him, clenching her arms around his neck as she saw the people behind them taking out guns.

"This is a crisis, Amelia. A civil war is close. The curfew will turn into martial law at this rate. With the newspaper as they are, it's not safe being my friend."

"But…!"

He dashed toward a dark alley, running faster and giving her motion sickness as he did. Gunshots were heard in the streets they just left.

"I know their family were jailed, but…"

"They attacked us with guns yesterday, jumping on Grumman's car, blowing up the pub we were in. They weren't joking around. I managed to talk a few of them out of it and things escalated but…"

He warned her he was jumping again and start climbing over a wall, using the bricks and cracks to get higher. Amelia was trying not to disturb him, as she kept her arms tightly around his neck, but she wasn't made of feathers.

"Running really is your only option?"

"I'm not involving you into a fight." he retorted, climbing and sweating.

"I'm still mad at you, you know."

He chuckled at that, realizing her tone wasn't entirely angry.

"I guessed you would be. You see any pursuers?"

Her back was brushing against the wall of bricks and she wrapped her legs around his chest, to give herself some stability, her face red from fear and shock, though she tried to sound casual. This wasn't what she had been expecting when she had went out to see him and talk things out.

"I don't know. I don't really like heights."

"It's fine. Soon, we'll be back down on earth, you'll see."

"I really meant to get answers from you about all of this." Amelia sighed,

He got them on a roof and bent down, forcing her to her knees as he checked their surroundings.

"I really meant to court you seriously before to kidnap you like this, you know."

"I know this isn't the time, but… What happened? You're like enemy number one. I know I seemed to jump to conclusion, but seeing you greet me like nothing had happened. I can never see you when I want, it's always you controlling our meetings and… And this whole affair in the newspaper."

She grabbed his hand and he winced. His fingers were covered in blood, where his burns had burst from the effort he'd made. She was about to apologize, but he interrupted her.

"First, your aunt asked my colonel to order me not to see you. Then the curfew prevented me from going out too late at night and with all that's been going on, I thought making you a public friend to a soldier was a bad idea. Last night, there was the fire and my friends in danger in an assaulted car. So I acted without thinking. Nothing was planned. And now they arrested the people I had convinced to give up arms."

_And I'm turned into a lieutenant so the whole thing seems planned and I can't raise a full rebellion myself_, he thought, realizing what was going on. _So the higher-ups fears me._

"This is bad. And you're in no state to run around town carrying me like a damsel in distress."

"But you're still mad."

"Of course. There are other ways to have people calm down than arresting them."

"But you still trust me?" he asked, noticing something that could lead him back in his barracks and safe from the civil.

There was a silver wire covered with flags of Amestris and the army, linking a nearby roof to the military wall. They were high enough.

"I think I don't have a choice."

He half smiled half winced at that.

"You could shove me down the roof."

"And kill myself as I try to stumble down from it afterwards? Don't you trust me a little? Even though I acted without thinking and got those guys after you, I never said you were importuning me or something. I didn't even gave them your name."

He helped her up, remaining crouched on the ceiling and they half walked half crawled to the other side of the roof, remaining as low as they could. Her braid was falling from her complicated hairstyle and ended up on his shoulder with a thud.

"I need to save my name before things get completely out of hand." He sighed. "See that wire?"

"Oh no, Brad. You're not serious…" she whispered, her voice turning as white as her face.

"This would be the worst time for jokes. We just need to get on that roof."

"We're going to jump?"

"I could throw you, but…"

She slapped him on the shoulder, to let him know he wasn't funny.

"And then what, we walk on this thin wire and pray we get to the other side?"

"I don't really believe in god."

"Wonderful. My aunt is really going to hate you, you know."

But his remark made her smile, nonetheless. The first smile since they saw each other today. He felt relieved. The fact she could keep her head cool in such a situation was a surprise, but he wouldn't ask her to panic until they would be safe. As she held his hand before the jump, he realized she was trembling. She was doing all she could not to blow up right now.

"I'm getting you out of this, Amelia. We'll get in my barracks and than a car can escort you back home or you can yell at me."

"I don't want to yell. Well, for jumping maybe, but not at you."

"When your feet will touch the ground, bent your knees and roll on yourself. The shock will hurt less."

A gunshot made her jump on place and he prevented her from falling down, putting more blood on her dress.

"This is a ten feet jump." she said.

Her anxiousness was getting stronger.

"More like seven feet. You can do it."

His own heart was beating far too fast. This was so wrong. He could run away from anything. If he had his swords with him, he could slash through any opponents. But now, he was running away with her, putting her in danger. His legs felt weak. His lungs still burned, like yesterday. The effort was a little too soon. He needed sleep. He refused to ask his souls for help, but they were cheering him.

_You can't fail. You can't fail her._

_I'm no failure_, he thought in reply. _Till this day, I still haven't fail at one single thing._

Maybe was he too proud. But he had worked too hard to lose everything now.

"We have to go now."

"At three?" she suggested.

More gunshots in the air. People yelling in the streets. Soldiers ordering civilians out of the way.

"No time. So now. Three!"

They got up, running on the few steps left before their roof ended on the streets and lunged into the air, their hands linked together, sticky with blood.

To be continued…

Two cliffhangers in two straight chapters. I'm on a roll! You know what you have to do!


	14. Set back

So finally, after a longer wait than expected, here is the new chapter. The ending could change, but it's still ongoing and the next chapter should be here soon. I might make a few jump in time when the civil war will be over. ;) Have a nice time reading!

I chose you - Chapter 14

Bradley had rarely walked on a silver line in the middle of the air while carrying someone else. The wind had been dangerously strong and threatened to throw them down. Amelia had yelped in fear and her fear was bound to be in his next nightmares for the coming weeks. Now they were back on earth, both safe, though his hands needed treatment and she needed peace.

"I want her to be safely escorted back to her house, before the end of the day."

They hadn't exchanged a word since they got behind the army's walls, except for "you're alright?". It felt wrong and he'd held her if his souls and better judgement hadn't warned him against it.

"It will be done as you ordered, lieutenant Bradley."

The title didn't feel good around her. He was worried that things were still wrong between them and that she still needed to have a full explanation. She had come for answers and not only over the civil war matters. But it would have to wait.

"Can't we have just.. a moment?" she whispered.

Being ordered around wasn't like her. He couldn't exactly send her back without an explanation. But…

"I wish we could talk. But I want you to be safe." he retorted, his voice lower than a whisper.

She nodded weakly, her face still pale, her eyes filled with worried and unanswered questions. _Will you be safe?_ she seemed to cry out though she remained silent. He couldn't reply. He was already showing enough weakness and he had to do something about the jailed civilians. And his hands needed some treatment. His souls were asking for sleep too, but everything else would have to be postpone until he fixed the whole situation.

"I'll do my best to get in touch as soon as things calm down."

She frowned but accepted this answer, before to follow Juliett in the car that would see her safely home. Bradley didn't wait so he could watch her leave. He was too angry to remain quiet. Turning around, he walked toward the cell's blocks. He entered without a word and ordered the few soldiers inside to give him some time with the prisoners. His new rank would come in handy after all. At his sight, the civilians burst into shouts and angry yells:

"This was your plan from the very start, you military dog!"

He crossed his arms over his chest, chilling their anger with his dark glare.

"I didn't mean for this to happen." he whispered when the rumours of their anger was gone and silence filled the room. "I was sincerely hoping for us to talk, but as you might know, while we were plotting talks, real terrorists attacked the fuhrer's house. His daughter was killed. He needed some people to take the blame and you were right here. Which mean you couldn't be responsible, but what's fairness to a grieving man?"

"Get to the point, King Bradley. Why are you here now?" a man groaned while people whispered to each other.

They were so many in every cells, like packs of sheep, all pressed on the others. It had to feel quite invasive.

"I want to get you out of here." he said, causing them to sneer, laugh or revert in supplying for his help, though it seemed hard to believe. "There is two options. Engaging yourselves in the army you hate to reform it from the inside. Or pretend to engage yourself and beat up the naïve soldier that let you out." he added, showing them the keys to their cells.

He had borrowed them to his fellow soldiers. It was a bargain, but Bradley was aiming for something far greater than ranks or admiration. He wanted to earn himself their trust, the trust of Central population.

"You wouldn't…"

"I stand up for my ideals. Here I am, unarmed and to take your punishment. It was my fault if you got arrested yesterday. The only thing you did wrong was to trust me. I know that this can look like a trap, but there's a back door leading directly to the city. I listened to your ideas yesterday. I hope you haven't forgotten them already."

Without waiting for their consent, he unlocked the door to every cells. His hand had trouble working as quickly as he'd wanted. After a brief talk and what looked like a crowd ready for a riot, a single man was sent out, to check the back door and if Bradley was saying the truth. The other seized King, preventing him from walking away or defending himself.

"You're looking for trouble," someone warned him.

"Trouble should be my middle name," he retorted. "Now…"

A punch in the stomach cut him off and he heard his worried souls cursing or laughing in the back of his skull.

That's quite the situation you got yourself in.

I know…

If he did it because of Amelia's anger and disapproval or because he sincerely hoped this could be useful to him in the future, he couldn't tell right now. Anger was everywhere.

"He was right," the civil scout said a few punches and minutes later. "It leads right into the city."

Father's gonna be mad. But I'm still young. His plans can still work. We've got many years before us.

"Why are you doing this?" a woman asked.

"Those cells should be holding real terrorists, not idealistic or innocent people. Except those of you that started fires and blew up buildings. But we can't punish the majority for a few guilty people."

It made sense. He was moving them, just like he did yesterday. He took no pride in it, except for the fact he had finally managed to understand them. He was getting better at being a human. At lying and convincing even himself.

"Let's make it look real." one guy declared before to spit on Bradley's face. "We knocked you out and freed ourselves alone."

Was that pride or kindness? Being proud and wanting to hide the mercy he'd shown them or trying to let him off, by pretending he had been outnumbered and couldn't prevent this massive jail breakout? He couldn't tell. His hands and arms hurt and so did his jaw. He had had to confront some of the perspective furher before. Fights and killings had happened. Some guy were greedy and some were simply cruel. Bradley had never allowed himself to be cornered, but he'd never allied himself to any of them either. It would have meant weakness. He didn't need anyone. Never trusted the scientists to help him if he was alone and beaten up. So he'd beat the other kids when they tried to hurt him. His first kill had terrified him, because he could have been on the other end of the blade. Because he had understood that day that he meant nothing to anyone, unless he was a victor.

Accepting to be punched and kicked around was a contraction to everything he had ever been. He had fought and bleed and sweat to become a conqueror. To always be the one to win, to be the last to stand. His stubbornness had gotten him through every challenge. And now his anger needed something different. Winning wasn't about physically breaking your enemy. He had been shaken between his alliances. Despite himself, he liked some of the inferior humans. He was a homonculus, but only half of it. The other half was inferior in his brothers' eyes. And being inferior was worse than being ganged upon right now.

As they hit him, and since he refused to retaliate, having given his word, some civils observed how unfair this was. But he didn't care for fairness. And the soldiers hadn't been fair with any of them the other night, Some of them had bruises here and there. Broken noses and fingers. It was certainly painful for small and inferior human beings. It was painful when inflicted on him, so…

But Bradley withstood every shot, every kick, and jab, every punch and slap. He'd earned it. He knew he had to endure and last. The civilians looked puzzled by his actions and attitude.

"What are you trying to prove?"

"Nothing more than the fact I can stand up to my ideals."

"You're being trashed." a woman sighed.

"I'm being strong," he retorted.

And it went on like this, the civilians getting out of the army's barracks and taking their frustration out on Bradley. His lower lip was ripped open, both of his eyes were circled with black and his flesh was throbbing, his skin swapping colors between yellow and dark and blue.

It hurt deep, but not strongly enough. It could never be enough, because he wasn't dying out here. No before he'd reach his goal.

…

A moment later, Bradley woke from a painful slumber, surrounded by the scientists that raised him. They were talking to themselves, having stripped him off his clothes. He felt his usual anger rising within his chest, at the idea of being manipulated once more.

"What were you thinking?" Gold tooth asked him as he noticed that his perspective fuhrer was conscious.

King remained silent as he was inspected thoroughly, turned on his side. His chest and back and arms were covered in bruises and he might have a few broken ribs. He wasn't sure if it was enough to redeem himself in the population's eyes. He needed to check the newspapers, to learn what happened with the fleeing civilians. If someone had to teach him a lesson, it had to be Grumman or Mustang, not the scientists. He couldn't appear as strong as he wanted in front of them. Not when they took away his dignity. The table was cold beneath his burning skin. He saw a red spark from the corner of his eyes and tensed at the idea that there could be another injection of a stone. It couldn't happen again, could it? He had survived it once, but the wrath was still in him, still part of his bones and nerves. He tried to look up, turning his head, but heard a metal sound, as a strong wire was put around his neck. They were tying him up to the table.

Just like they did on injection day. He almost lost it at this point. Being restrained, being pulled back, it was something he wasn't supposed to live again! He didn't want to go through it, but…

"What's wrong? Why the restraint?"

"You need some treatment. We'll leave the wounds on your face and hands, because miraculous recovery would be suspicious and you've done enough on that account for now."

"I won't run." he whispered through clenched teeth.

The metal links were cold, almost biting into his skin. He felt too vulnerable, too small, though he had nothing of being ashamed of in front of those men. The table on which he lied was part of a greater mechanism and he felt it moving upward. Bounded as he was, he was forced up, as if he was standing, though he was hanging in his chains. His throat tightened and for the first time, he realized his eye patch was gone. His tattooed eye was covered with larger bandages, and the sudden pain reminded him of a kick that had almost broken his brow.

"We received clear instructions, 12. You've been acting on your own. You must refrain from being this impulsive in the future. We'll remind you of it."

Gold tooth's smile was so large, so widespread across his demented face. Around Bradley, hands were hard at work, using small philosophers stone to patch him up. He felt bites and cuts and realized he had to pay for his insubordination. Pay with blood. Why not make him realize how wrong he was? They could patch him up as much as they wanted. With human lives. He wasn't sure Father had agreed to that. This was torture, this was… uncalled for. He was one of his son. He was superior. Where were his rights? He had crossed the line, that much was clear, but…

"Aaggh!"

They had let a few of the brain rotted perspective fuhrer in the room. The soulless guys remembered him. They remembered too well, and Bradley didn't know if he had to be proud or sad that he might be the last thing they clearly remembered. The scientists were looking, leaving him to fend for himself, with his wrists in handcuffs and his legs still tied. It wouldn't last long. But if he wanted to pay, to receive punishment, he had to let the right person punish him. The first he had wronged were his comrades. And now they bite him and clawed at him when they weren't turning their hands into fists.

"Be careful, dogs. Don't damage his face or throat. The scars can't be easily noticeable."

Wrath hadn't thought his situation would get worse. But he promised himself never to lower his arms again. Even if the end result was good, even if in the human world, he'd earned himself respect. He wasn't going to give Father another chance to punish him. His leash had reached its limits. He couldn't pull anymore than that. And that angered him more than anything else. He was no better than the dogs. No better than the dirt on which they all stepped.

_And I'll become Fuhrer. I'll be the one. Damn you, damn it, all of you, I'll be the puppet standing right on top. So humiliate me as much as you can now. Cause it won't last_, he thought bitterly, doing his best not to show his pain or the underlying fear.

Hours later, he was freed, well, as freed as he could be given the fact his life itself was a cage. He was slightly shaking as he walked into his barracks. From anger, he kept on telling his souls, but they all knew better. He was no superior being. If Father decided to dispose of him for the sake of his plans, he would. He couldn't exactly be replaced, but it might be possible. Who know if Gold tooth wasn't raising thirty new candidates to take up his place if he proved himself unworthy?

"Are you alright, Brad?" Grumman asked him.

The whole squad knew he had been beaten up by the escaping civilians.

"Fine. I just need some sleep."

But sleep was filled with the groans and bites of the other prospective Fuhrer. The faces that could have been his, the faces that could have towered over him as he'd lay broken in a field, a sword driven in his guts. The faces that could have smiled to Amelia in his stead, or to some of the higher graded woman in gold tooth's list. Imagining them in the same picture than Amelia turned into a full-fledged nightmare, were they pursued the woman, armed with swords and their mouth dribbling, as if they wanted to take a bite of her. He woke up in the middle of the night, shivering and sweating, his throat dry.

You were yelling in your sleep, his souls warned him.

_That can't be_, he thought, mortified.

"Lieutenant Bradley, are you combat ready?"

He blinked, realizing that Kimblee was standing in the doorway and that Grumman was looking down at him from the upper bed. Their ranks weren't high enough to have a separate room, though Eli usually went back home instead of staying the night.

"What's going on?" the blond man asked.

An alarm was groaning in the distance.

"Civil war has been declared. They put another house on fire. A general's house. And half of your runaways came right up to enlist themselves. Would you believe that?"

Bradley would have smiled if he still cared. His plan had worked, but the price was too heavy, too fresh in his mind.

"They did, huh? That was my best gamble so far."

"Now, both of you get up. We have real civilians to save and culprits to chase down."

Bradley obeyed, but his hands were still shaking. He tried to keep it all in. The beating, the threats and the swallowed back anger. If he shook, it was only because of that, anger he repeated to himself. But he was no fool. Grumman gave him a friendly tap on the shoulder, meant to cheer him up, but the newly appointed lieutenant backed away, tensing like a wild animal. All humanity was far, far. Fear, anguish and resentment were the only things left. I saved them and look what they did to me. Since I managed to survived the stone, the wrath, I saved all of those human wrecks and they repay me by obeying like brainless soldiers. I saved those civilians and still, they beat me until I fell unconscious, unable to fend for myself. Unable to refuse the scientists' help and warnings.

He'd rarely lost consciousness except for the moment he was sleeping or when he truly overexert himself. He could go on without sleep for days before to crack down. He'd never really cracked down until today, when he felt overwhelmed by the contradictory questions and answers he had.

You're not human, but you're still too human to be worth our approval. You may appear to have a will of your own, but you can't use it before we say so. Anything you do, we'll keep it against you. Every drop of blood you'll shed won't change anything. You're a cog in the machine. Just a pawn. Just another pawn. Those dying in your way were meant to take you to higher place. Higher rank, where we want you to be. The very goal we gave you was our idea. Our will. Our goal. Nothing belongs to you, not the ideas in your head, not even the blood in your veins. You're my son. My possession. My trash.

King Bradley, that's a nice name huh? Which part of it belongs to you? None of it. Which part of your knowledge, or your skill, belongs to you alone? We decided what you'd learn. We'd decided how you'd fight. We made you. We'll unmake you if need be.

The truth behind his life seemed crystal clear and it angered him to no end. But he wasn't shaking only from anger. Right now, he was scared. Scared to lose it, scared to falter and crack. He couldn't be weak. He couldn't run to Amelia for comfort even if he wanted. His tattooed eye was still covered with bandages. He was healing faster than normal human, but he had to hide it as much as possible.

"You look like you're going to be sick," Grumman sighed to him.

"I'm fine. I just need fresh air."

…

The sight of burned woods and scraped metal melted into human flesh wasn't at all what Bradley needed to see. But he took it in, appreciating the fact this flesh wasn't his, that this had happened far away from the place where Amelia lived with her aunt and that culprits could be found and punished on the spot. Executions. Taking lives. Fighting back. After the day he had, he could use some retaliation. He tried to keep it cool. To stay quiet. When another fire started and some teenagers ran buy, mocking them, he was the first to start chasing after them. His swords were ready and he refused to take out his gun. He needed to vent some anger out. He needed to break down some other people before that his sanity left him.

Blood splashed on walls, dripping from wide wounds. Tears and cries flashed through the city streets as he chased the terrorists, a shadow dressed in blue, his bandages falling slowly from his face, showing a crust of blood and purple skin around his tattooed eye that refused to open. The cold air on his swollen cheek was welcome. The guts spilling from his blade were wanted, desired. His stomach churned in protest, but he willed the few things he'd eaten to remain where they were. Wrath was stronger than anything else tonight. This rage would be his. This rage would belong to him and him to her. Racing and running, letting himself turn into the war monster he had been, he tracked every last one of their culprits. And he made them bleed, leaving no choice but death. He had talked enough. He had paid enough. His whole life was a sacrifice from his very birth and he was sick of this charade.

His mind came back as soon as Kimblee was congratulating him for his work.

"Though you could have been a little cleaner about it. You're off for now. We'll clean behind you."

Which mean Grumman would be doing the cleaning. Bradley was glad he could wander off. He gave back one of his blade, which had broken in his last victim. His hands were shaking again, as the fear came back. Would all that blood be enough? Had he killed those person to prove himself or just to let the rage out for once? He felt weaker than before now that all the running was over. His throat was hoarse and his lungs burned. Adrenaline was running through his veins. Flashes of the afternoon tortures came back to him. Father was crossing some lines too, but he couldn't protest. He had to be the perfect soldier and he would be.

That didn't make any of his doings right. He felt the disgust rushing back and tried to tell himself it was human weakness that disgusted him. But it was a lie. Because he was weak and predictable. He had been influenced into doing this, somehow. Why not be weak all the way then?

…

Amelia was surprised to see Bradley standing in her front door, one sword resting in its sheath. He was wearing civilian's cloths, dark pants and a white buttoned shirt under his black jacket.

"What happened to you…?!"

He walked in uninvited, not even caring about what her aunt could think about this intrusion.

"It's official, Amelia. There's nowhere safe around Central. So I came by to make sure…"

His voice died down on the lie and he looked away from her, trying to get back to himself. Who was that? The man, the confused homonculus, the soldier who didn't fight and talked about an idealistic country that would never exist? She sighed, her shoulders lowering beneath her shawl. Her hair was down and it was late, so late in the night he felt ashamed. He had certainly woken her.

"We can have our time alone now?"

He nodded, his throat too tight for words to come out. She wasn't looking away, even if he looked like shit. She wasn't annoyed. What he didn't was that she hadn't been sleeping.

"I heard the sirens and yells outside, even if they were far. I couldn't sleep." she said as she grabbed his hand and pulled him up the stairs.

They went to her room, where he pulled down the stores, making sure they were hidden safely. She locked her door, hoping it would reassure him.

"You brought your sword." she observed.

She was impressed, and not entirely in a good way and he put the weapon in a corner of the room, apologizing if it worried her.

"I can't walk around without anything to defend myself. I… I might become a target."

How could he keep a straight face in front of her, he couldn't say. His hands were still shaking. The shaking went up to his shoulders. She walked up to him, as he stood in the middle of the room.

"So why would you come here to see me, when you couldn't take a minute to talk to me earlier today?"

As she reached one hand to him he flinched away and she gasped, shocked by his reaction.

"I'm sorry." he whispered. "I've been trying to make sense, but…"

He tried to remain still as she took one tentative step towards him. She was no threat. She could never be a threat. That was the very reason why he'd come to her.

"I heard you let the citizen out of jail. All of your own. They did this to you, didn't they?"

She pointed his swollen eye, the one hidden behind the scar, refraining herself from touching him. He slowly nodded, focusing on his breathing, on keeping it in check, on keeping his calm. He wasn't here to break down. Why was he here already?

"You didn't do it because of what I said, did you?"

"I'm not the knight type. I did it for myself. Because I never meant for them to be jailed. And because I thought arresting them wouldn't change anything. But don't think I won't chase them down if they prove dangerous."

"I know. I know and it's okay, King."

That seemed to loosen something within him and he lost control of his breathing, of his shakings. How could it be okay? How could anything could be fix, when the reality was so twisted, so distorted from what it should be?! She saw the change in his eye, the paleness of his untouched skin, where there was no bruise or blood. He swallowed back the wave of pain that ran through him, bringing her between his arms at the same time. That was what he'd wanted to do, from the moment he'd seen her on the street after walking out of his barracks.

"I killed them. Those who started the fires tonight. Every last one of them."

She shivered, but she didn't move away.

"Brad…"

"This is what I am, Amelia. Deep down, beneath the eye patch, beneath the uniform, beneath the letters. I kill when I'm ordered to kill. I would kill if there were no order. It makes me feel stronger. As if I earned my right to live another day."

"You don't need to earn such a right." she protested, slowly wrapping her arms around him.

She seemed cautious of touching him, and he realized she expected him to flinch in response, because he was scared, or hurt, or both.

"You don't need to be this patient with me."

"What did they do to you? Look at me Brad."

She pushed him back, gently, softly, but he didn't want to meet her eyes. He wasn't at his best. Just holding her should have been enough, but he kept shaking, trembling. It was growing stronger, growing on him, the trembling running in his insides, his shoulders, his arms. He must be looking pathetic and he wanted to hide, to hide here, far from her eyes, but close to her heart that was still welcoming.

Her fingers brushed against his neck, her hands framing his face, as softly as possible.

"You need some ice on your face."

"It's fine…"

Her eyes scanned him over and her inspection felt worse than any other stare, because she cared and showing weakness in front of her felt wrong, so wrong. She noticed something on his neck and pulled on his collar to get a better look, throwing his heart into a crescendo in his chest.

"Is that… a bite mark?"

He froze, remembering the prospective Fuhrers surrounding him, almost sending the wall he was hanging on back into its table position. Their hands and dirty nails on him. Their vacant eyes, filled with mist, their faces grimacing with rage. He shivered, closing his eye shut, willing the pictures away.

"Don't…"

He was too open, he shouldn't have come to her. He pulled his collar back up, and since his shaking turned stronger, she looked even more worried.

"Brad, who did this to you!?"

"Don't ask. It's fine. It's over. Don't worry. Please."

Short sentences, short answers, because his voice couldn't stay steady for longer than that.

"But King…!"

He grabbed on her shoulders, forcing the trembling to stop and almost winning that fight.

"I don't want pity. I don't want anyone licking my wounds."

"I think you should sit down. And stop holding everything back. You're hurt, and scared."

He gulped down, feeling shame, but recognition too. She didn't let go of his eyes, didn't change the way she looked at him. She was understanding, was ready to wait for him to get over it. Amelia got him to sit down on her bed and took his hands in hers.

"Does it hurt?"

Bandages still covered his burned flesh and he simply nodded.

"Barely."

"It's okay to hurt, you know."

"Not like that."

And she understood the inner meaning. As if she could hear his souls too. That he had no right to feel hurt and receive compassion. That he deserved it for killing people. It was written all over his face.

"I can't forgive anyone who hurts an innocent person. And though you might not be entirely innocent, it doesn't make it right for anyone to… to do whatever they did to you."

She had no idea, no idea. She seemed ready to cry and he whimpered, unable to hold everything back. He tried to look away, to look down to his hands. Why did he have to shake like this?

"I'm not… It wasn't wrong to let them out. They weren't guilty of the charges against them. I wanted to shoulder the blame, since it had been my idea. But I can't… I'm not ranking high enough to have any idea of my own."

Why was he telling her that? Because he was already helpless enough? Because it didn't matter what she thought of him? Of course it mattered. But…

"King!"

She sounded so sorry for him.

"It's fine, Melia. I'm just… worn out."

"Worn out?!"

He wanted to appease her, but he had never felt like this before. The war had broken him before, but not that way.

"I'm a mess. Just messier than last time…"

"I'll try and fix you if that's what you want. I can just listen to you if you prefer. But right now, I think I need a hug."

She pushed him backwards to have enough place to sit in his lap. At first, both of them thought he would back away, refusing the intimate contact. But he welcomed her in his arms. Her smell felt so full of life. He run one finger over her hair, sorry that he couldn't taste the entire feel of it under his hands, because of his burns and bandages.

"You know you can trust me, Bradley?"

"I know."

She stroked his back, in feathery motions, drawing circles and vines. It was soothing but his trembling remained. He felt so small, so vulnerable. He was disposable. His confidence was shaken. He wanted to be free to act as he pleased. To live in the same delusion those petty humans had. Why couldn't he have that? Why was she the only thing he decided about? Why did it mean putting her in danger too? Why did danger scared him? He could live through any torture they could imagine for him. Any humiliation. He would get on top no matter what. But knowing it was planned. Knowing that the glory wouldn't really belong to him. Knowing that it was a lie, another kind of delusion. That made him angry. That hurt. He could have howled if it wasn't for her, being this close, holding onto him.

So he cried, for the first time in front of another human being. It felt intimate and dangerous at first, till he realized she wasn't judging him. Amelia ran her hands through his hair, touching some bumps here and there on his head, but trying to comfort him nonetheless. He hadn't meant to come looking for a shoulder to cry on. Hadn't meant to sound pitiful. But she had once told him that he could lay the pain on her and count on her support. And he was thankful for it. More than thankful.

When Bradley felt a little lighter, he eased his embrace on the young woman. He could have crushed if he'd hug her any closer. He realized that she was shaking a little now.

"Are you… are you okay?" he asked, moving back

"I'm fine, Brad. It's just… scary to see you like this. And to think that there's a civil war going on."

"I know I might not sound encouraging… But it's gonna be alright."

She smiled to him and at this point he knew they did trust each other.

To be continued…

So… what did you think? Too emotional? Too un-Bradley? I liked his whole reasoning. The more I write on him the more I love him. :D


	15. Fairness

I'm sorry for the wait, things kept popping up and I wasn't sure about how this chapter should turn. I was thinking of changing the ending of the last one too, because it felt quite abrupt. It might change in the future. I need to get back with a permanent internet connection. Without further ado, here's the new chapter:

I chose you - Chapter 15

There had been less nightmares that night. And the night was far gone when Bradley's mind reached back to consciousness. Sleeping in a warm embrace seemed familiar, though he was still awkward with human contact. But this was Amelia's room. He felt her hands running through his hair and inhaled her scent deeply. Clean skin, her hair smelled of soap and lemon, her hands were too soft, too gentle. He wouldn't get up today. Being snuggled next to her, in their shared warmth was far better than going back outside or to Father.

"King?" she asked him.

He sighed, cracking his good eye open. His back was against the wall and the room was still dark, with the curtains closed. He seemed to take all the space in the bed, he had to bent his legs not to have his feet in the air, pulling on the sheets. She was right between in his arms, her face next to his, one arm slipped beneath the pillow, the other one on his side, her hand framing his face.

"Don't tell me you have to get up…"

She smiled at that, as he pulled her closer, digging his face in the hollow of her neck.

"I'd stay here if I could, but my aunt…"

"I know. I should probably head back. But I didn't manage to answer a single question you asked yesterday."

His voice sounded hoarse and weird, but she didn't seem annoyed. He was certainly looking awful and still, she wouldn't look away from him. Why did she care so much? What had he done for her to earn that much? Was he abusing her kindness?

"You need to rest up more. You can stay here. I'll bring you some water and something to clean up. You need another bandage on that eye. And maybe some ointment on your other wounds."

Her hand stroked his neck, making him flinch backward. The bite mark was stinging a lot more than it did the other day.

"Stop worrying about me. I have to make all of this up to you. You've been looking after me from the very start."

"Maybe does it help me. To think I can be of use to someone." she retorted.

And she sounded so serious he felt scared. Had something bad happened? Had he missed something about her, about her life? She was quiet. Too quiet for a woman her age. She had lost a brother, so he guessed that could be the reason why she'd be more mature than most of the woman he'd met. She was living with her aunt who was chastising her about anything and everything. Her parents were far and she saw them for a single month, to help with their store. Wherever she was, she helped, but he didn't reminded her talking of friends. A quiet, lone girl. He tried to recall her letters, but she only asked about him, barely mentioning her own past. Why was she so alone when she was so friendly with him? He tried to remember the woman out on the street, cleaning the front of her aunt's hotel. She had seemed full of doubts and untrusting at first, as much as she was angry. But she seemed friendly with the clients and the people answering her at the shops. She was nice to kids. So why would she need to feel useful to anyone? His eye widened and he looked for the right words as he started:

"Why…?"

She freed her arm from the pillow and sat up next to him, cutting him short with a finger on his ripped lips.

"Don't think too much. Rest more, Brad. We'll talk later, when I'll bring you some food."

She was speaking low and he wanted to ask for answers, but he couldn't, not when he refused to answer her own questions just the other day. So little time had gone by since he'd taken her to those roofs, climbing against a wall with her clinging to him as they ran from the enraged civilians. He remembered her arms around his neck and her legs, tightly closed around his waist. Wrong thoughts, not proper thoughts, but better than those that came with the wounds he was still carrying.

"I'm going to change myself. I hope you'll be a gentleman about it."

He swore to and turned his back on her, trying not to focus on the noise of clothes shuffling. A minute later, she warned him she was leaving for a few hours.

"Don't try to get out before I'm back, Brad. I want to have more time with you, when you'll be fully rested, okay?"

He nodded, sitting in her bed, his tattooed eye covered with a crust of blood, his skin aching from every bites and scratches beneath his clothes. She left like that and he stayed behind, because he knew she would come back and because he was truly too tired to oppose her. He looked around him, to the desk with a few books and sheets left on it. Her shawl was lying on the chair and the walls seemed too close for comfort. But Amelia's presence was everywhere. It felt different from its barracks quarters, where his little belongings were packed and stashed neatly, almost in surgery-like order. His belongings were his swords, a few maps, one single book over Amestris' history, with half of its pages left blank, because he was suppose to rewrite the rest to follow with Father's plan… Other than that, Grumman had given him a pen and a notebook, in case his memory would fail him at some point, or in case Eli needed a friend to remember a pretty woman phone's number for him. It was the latter that mattered the first lieutenant more.

Bradley didn't mind. He had one small razor blade, to take care of his appearance. And that was about it. Maps of the city, maps of the neighbouring countries, his personal favourite weapon, blades, and the few ammunitions he was allowed for his gun. He didn't have to explain himself with sword. Grumman had seemed puzzled at first for this special right, but it was soon made clear that King had superhuman abilities in combats and swords that defied most natural laws. In response to the many questions he got, Bradley retorted that his weapons were made by a gifted alchemist selling his work to the army. Juliett had observed that guns were faster than sword. To which Bradley had chuckled and whispered back: "I'm faster than guns."

It had been the only time he'd ever sound cocky and the other had laughed and he had laughed with them. Until the first real fight, where he had shown his skills. Kimblee had sworn beneath his breath, thinking that he'd prefer to have him on his sight. And Bradley wondered. If one day, his skills could make him strong enough to stand against Father. It sounded preposterous. The idea made him want to train more. But he stopped wondering and slowly got up, being careful not to make any noise. He wanted to learn things about Amelia. She had left him here, with no other instruction than to rest. So why not inspect the place a little more? Maybe was there one of her favourite book lying around. On the shelves across the wall, he found two novels, both worn by time and clear use, though he could tell that Amelia treated her books well. The first novel was over a man travelling the world, promising everything and anything to everyone he met and finding love and power along the way. A fairy tale kind of story. Bradley put it back on the shelves. It was too long for him to get through it before that the young woman came back. The other one was about a family living in an old country, and old rules and their second born life. The first sentences caught his attention and he found himself reading a full page.

_Jonathan knew he wouldn't be able to chose his wife or his profession from the very first day of his conscious live. When born high enough, parents decided in which family you'd marry and where you should do your studies. They would also decide which kid in the neighbourhood you should befriend or not. Jonathan knew and wanted his life to be easy, unlike that of his elder sister, who had ran away with a stranger on her sixteenth birthday. The girl was unheard of and neither of their parents spoke her name ever again. Jonathan remembered it, but barely, in a corner of his mind. She was a disgrace for the Arkers and disgrace was more dangerous than disease in Campterburry._

_When he was told to befriend Arthur Whitecraft, he accepted whole-heartily, even if he had seen Arthur pick fights with boys smaller than him, even if he had seen Arthur kick an helpless dog until the thing died and even if Arthur liked to pick on girls until they would cry. Arthur Whitecraft was heir to a fortune and an empire. For the Arker, he was the right connection to the society they belonged to. For Jonathan, as long as he didn't have to kill dogs or make girls cry, Whitecraft was fine. But somehow, he knew that he couldn't trust the cruel man his friend turned into. And he did kill a few dogs and cats to prove worthy of that friendship. In the mundane world, people revered the young man, hunters and good marksman. Jonathan simply hoped he'd never became Arthur's prey. But disgrace was worse than the fear and it was too late to go back._

_When he had to study abroad, in a town he knew nothing about, he didn't complain. The memory of his sister, gone, without an afterthought, without a tear from his mother or father, was enough to muzzle all of his complaints. Love came with resignation. Care came with obligation and obedience. He was a good son. He would be a doctor. Even if he felt awkward around people, even if he'd rather learn science and work on machines than living beings. Wood didn't yell when you twisted it or nailed it and yells of pain always gnawed at his heart, ever since he was a small boy. But sensibility wasn't as important as any potential disgrace._

_When he was mentally preparing himself to meet Lillie Borough for the first time, he wasn't scared, but filled with expectations. She was the one for him. The one he should love and cherish and who would support him in life. She had the money to support his family, at least and that was enough for a happy marriage according to his mother. But before that the meeting could even happen, he met a woman on a street that called up his name. Her clothes were dirty, her face was red and her shape was uneven, as if she couldn't stand straight. She had dirt in her hair and her right cheek was swollen, purple. She missed a few teeth in her half smile. Jonathan was disgusted, but also sorry for her. And then he met his eyes, and he realized who she was. His breath was caught in his lung and everything around and within him froze that very instant._

_"Brother." she called after him._

_And her hazel eyes were the same as his departed sister. Magdalena. He blinked, seeing her reach one hand towards him, smiling with tears in her eyes._

_"You've grown. You look rather handsome."_

_"You must be mistaken."_

_Jonathan had no idea what to feel or what to tell her. She was supposed to be gone, to be death, not to exist anymore. And there she was, in their hometown, dressed with rags, but alive, clearly alive despite her poor appearance._

_"I've seen you taking a walk last week, Jon. I knew it was you. I had to see you."_

_It was wrong to talk to her. Wrong to acknowledge her. But wasn't it wrong to run away from her too?_

Bradley forced himself to stop his reading. How strange. He felt compelled by this story. Jonathan sounded quite like him. Forced into many things he didn't want, his life planned for him, unravelling without any decision on his part. He wanted to learn more about him. To see if in a storybook, someone could get out of the path chosen for him. Breaking free, truly free. No rules. No drawn lines that could be crossed and would earn him a punishment. But then, that would mean he wasn't strong enough to face the pressure. It would mean giving up. And he had the right to taste at least a little glory. He had the right to seize this military world.

He pushed the book back on the shelf, memorizing its title. Reading novels was meaningless back when he was a perspective fuhrer. Now, with the pretence of learning more about human nature, he might be able to get off with it. He noticed a letter written on the desk in the corner of his eyes and turned around to scan it. It was addressed to Amelia's mother. He recognized her curvy handwriting right away and read before to think about it. He liked reading her. He loved to read her in fact. His souls gave him a few warning but he was already half-way through it.

It seemed that Amelia's father was ill. His face darkened and his left eye throbbed in its socket. It really wasn't fair.

_I wish I could come back home to see you and dad, mom, but the city is closed off. There's no train going out. Don't worry about us though. The women from Corsaire's family are made tough, as you know. If you have to close up the shop to take care of father, I'll find a way to send you more money._

The paper was stained there and Bradley noticed how she'd written down notes about changing her way of saying things. Her mother didn't need any more reasons to worry about her.

_I need to change her ideas by talking about Bradley. Telling her he has seriously asked to court me. That he's a good man and that they won't have to worry about their single daughter for the rest of their lives. I have a great life out here. The civil war news mustn't reach her, at least, not through me. Our village is far enough… Dad will get better and the war won't reach them. Not again. Not… again._

More stains. Her hand shook as it held the pen. Bradley put both of his hands on the desk to steady himself, picturing her as she was bent down on her letter, with her shoulders shaking and no one to comfort her. Why had she said "not again"? Because of her brother, surely? He was starting to picture all kind of things, all kind of wrong things. When had she wrote this? The new letter wasn't anywhere in sight and he didn't dare to search through her things. That would be highly improper. Just to read this letter was wrong.

He looked up to the clock on the whole. Half an hour since she had left. Half an hour and he already wanted to hug her in his arms and to keep her there. He sighed, looking back to the novel he'd left on the shelves. He couldn't sleep now. Not with Amelia's worries so clear in his mind. He sat on her bed, with her book and kept on reading. The fact the story focused on Jonathan Arker felt funny, because the guy showed no temper, no ideas. He had inner thoughts, but buried so deep he seemed void. Empty. Arthur described him as a mirror, giving the answers his interlocutor wanted, saying anything that felt right, but never speaking his mind, never acting himself. He was a mime, mimicking what other told him too. Arthur finished his portray by saying that he pitied the guy and kept him around to get more deer on their hunts and to see how far he'd go to stay on friendly terms with him. If one thing was right about Jonathan Arker, it was his aim. But Jonathan didn't know how to judge a character. He was resigned to everything. When his sister asked for his help, he reluctantly gave it, even if the inner Jonathan would have given anything to know her, because she was the only person who'd ever love him for what he was and not because he did as he was told. When his sister met Arthur Whitecraft and turned into a new mockery prey, he mocked her with Whitecraft, feeling a burning guilt inside him. He didn't apologized. Then he met Lillie Borough and realized she was worse than Arthur. When she mocked his sister, he got mad for the first time in his whole life.

And Bradley kept on reading, his tattooed eye fluttering open somewhere in the middle of it. He thought that the rules of those petty humans were pretty stupid, but he understood them because he was bounded too. He hadn't chose to be rash or edgy. He had become like this to survive. He could have been different with different surroundings. He wondered if Amelia would still love him without the patch, without the soldier's uniform, without the swords and the skills and the tough seriousness. Would his jokes have the same bite? Would he exude the same authority, the same anger? Would she be the same herself, in a world where he'd be different? Would they still meet?

Some would say he was daydreaming. But he followed Jonathan, turning the pages Amelia had turned, wondering how deep the rules would break that character and how long he would accept to follow them. He forgot his wounds for the time being, forgot the time. The novel was simple in the way it was written, but the characters were interesting. He could give a face to every of them. Arthur was Kimblee. Jonathan was a mix of him and the other perspective Fuhrers. Magdalena was Juliett. Lillie was Lust, in a degraded version. Arker's father was his Father, the mother was a feminine version of Golden tooth, with thick glasses and a mullet on her cheek and a more feminine face. She was awful and he hated her deeply, for what she did to both her child. And at some point, a servant caught his attention, just as Jonathan noticed her. She looked frail but was a strong, working girl. She'd joined his parents' aides a few months ago, about around the time his sister showed up. The servant was sweet and earnest and honest and hardworking. She fell ill and Jonathan treated her, even if his mother disagreed. A doctor should be paid for his work. Saving lives was a business. Just as killing people was one for Bradley.

The servant had Amelia's face and smile. A doorway to what life should be. A ray of sunshine. A dozen rays at that. She seemed invincible, taking life head on, with all the rules, but not caring entirely for them. Slowly, they got closer. But Jonathan was supposed to marry someone else. His sister died from a bullet wound. He learned that Arthur had hunted her down like a madman and would get away with it, since she was nothing more than a beggar on the street. Revenge was the only solution in Bradley's mind, but it was out of the question. Until another trigger. Arthur mistreated the Arker's servants on his stay at their house. The whole family didn't bother as it was discovered, it couldn't be called a rape unless it was done to a noble's woman. Mere servants were there to answer to their master's needs.

It sounded trivial, simple-minded for a story, but Bradley was still mad, because he was picturing the whole thing quite vividly, because Jonathan's anger was his and because the rules in his own world weren't that far from this novel's. Human were pawns far less valuable than him. The other homonculi liked to play with them and dispose of them. It was simple and easy. He did it himself already. But he felt human right now. He wanted Arthur to suffer and to pay for his crimes. He wanted Jonathan to wake up before that things went too far and they had already gone too far for his standards. He almost wanted to give up reading and decide of the right ending himself, but there was a lot left to read. The hours were going by, but he didn't noticed them.

When Jonathan challenged Arthur for a duel, Bradley wondered if the Whitecraft would win, just to prove to the reader how unfair the world could be. Would he cheat? The servant had been sent away, pregnant with her rapper's child, broken and barely paid for her loyal deeds. Jonathan had had no say in the matter, as always, but that was about to change. In a few words, Jonathan went rogue. He killed Arthur in cold blood, before to threaten his parents to kill himself if he wasn't given the money from his heritage right now. After some hesitation, begging and barked orders that were answered with bullets and swears, the young man ran away with little gold but all the rage he needed to fuel his goals. He looked everywhere for the servant he once treated, the first life he'd saved as a doctor, not once, but twice. He found her in a covenant and asked her to follow him, which she did, even if she was ashamed and thought that she shouldn't ask for any more mercy.

The rest was their struggle, first to find some place to live far from disgrace and police officers and lawyers. They traveled over two countries to find some peace, Jonathan working as hard as Christiana, the one he'd chosen just a little late, but not too late. She gave birth to her child, in pain and in tears, and that was another life Jonathan saved, and kept on saving, since its mother had trouble coming to terms with the way she'd been forced to have this child. Time passed, and Jonathan worked, buying them a simple house, trying to amend for his mistakes. He fixed people and machines, while what needed to be fixed was Christiana's heart and both their souls. Slowly, she let him love her, first in words, then in small, careful touches, and in flesh, when she felt cleaner and more at peace. Another child came, and Bradley wondered what was the point to keep the story going any farther. Wasn't the point proven? Wasn't the disgrace overcome by freedom and great effort?

Than a police officer showed up, to take Jonathan away, because his crimes had to be paid for. The Whitecraft 's had power. There was a few sentences left to the book and Bradley felt deceived, wondering why Amelia would put up with such a terrible and twisted story. But then he read it.

_Jonathan smiled to Tiana as she cried, holding their baby boy in her arms. They had almost nothing and his crimes called for either money or time._

_"Please don't hang him." Christiana called out. "Please don't take him away. He's all we have."_

_"Don't say that, dear. You have the kids. You have your own skills. You've worked as hard as I did. And you'll always have me."_

He was taken away like this, without a last kiss, without a proper farewell. His judgment was _swift but merciful, thanks to his last name. His death wouldn't be torture. His life would slip off at the end of a blade, not an axe or a rope. Swift and almost painless. Jonathan was sad not to have more years with Tiana, or with the kids,…_

Bradley was angry at the book by this point. But…

…_but he was glad to die knowing he'd done more than was ever expected from him. It was his last revenge on the parents that had made the first half of his life miserable without him realizing it._

On the last page, Amelia had written a small note:

_Jonathan was a fool not to run with the woman he loved when the police came for him, but then again, he had a few years, which were filled with hardships but were better than all the uneasy years of lies and silent resignation he gave up before. He had to be shaken out of his golden cage. He had to let the woman he loved get hurt. But once awoken, he never faltered. He fought. And when he thought he'd done enough, and only then did he gave up. I just wished he'd still fight. But life isn't a book…_

That final note helped Bradley accept the book a little more. It was then that Amelia walked into the room, carrying a jug of water, a small towel and a tray of food. She had a bag on her shoulder and the homonculus marvelled at the fact she could juggle so many things at once. He wasn't clumsy, but he doubted he could go past a set of stairs carrying all this without dropping something.

"You didn't sleep." she observed, setting the food on her desk and walking up to him with a frown.

Before that he could say anything, she got to work, giving him a glass to drink and starting to wipe away the dried blood on his face. He tried to resist her, saying he could take care of himself, but she insisted and he quickly conceded. As she went on with her ministrations, she asked him how he'd find the book.

"You've already read it?"

"I might have jumped over a few passages. I was more interested in knowing when that guy would realize his life was off the trail."

"Skipping over passages is a terrible thing to do when you read a book, King. But I guess such a read would be boring for a man."

"The duels and hunts were interesting. The writer knows how guns works. And that psycho sounded just like my colonel."

She laughed, and then realized that he was serious.

"Did you like it?"

"I don't know. You seemed to like it, I mean, you can tell it's been read more than once or twice, so… I was interested."

"The novel makes me dream of different endings and solutions. I like most every characters and the world they live in. It's not that far-fetched from our society."

He grabbed her hands, refusing to use the book as a way to forget what truly mattered.

"Why are you so set on fixing me up, Amelia? Why do you said you wanted to feel of use to someone?"

She seemed surprised and looked away, fidgeting with the tissue she'd used to clean his face.

"You're covered with bites, aren't you?" She whispered after a few seconds.

"What?"

"Civilians don't bite. But those aren't dog bites either."

"How do you know what dog bites look like?" he retorted.

He didn't like where she was taking him, where this was heading. He would have to lie and it was kinda hard. Her fingers were brushing along the buttons of his shirt. She seemed hesitant but also decided. She looked lost and found and lost again, depending on whether their eyes were meeting or not. He tried to lock his gaze in hers. To speak up what he really wanted to ask, what he really wanted to tell. But his voice was muffled. If she was the woman from the book, the sweet servant that was supposed to revolve in a different world than Jonathan, then they were still too far. But she seemed reachable. And he was open. Quite too open as that.

"I had a dog."

"It never bite you, did it?"

"It fought other dogs to protect me. This isn't what a dog's bite looks like." She repeated, following the curve of the mark on his neck with the tip of her fingers.

Blast those brain rotten maniacs. Damn those scientists. He covered her hand with his.

"Amelia, what's going on with you? Why do you keep on focusing on me like this? Is something wrong with you? Or your family? Is it the civil war or…"

"War isn't suppose to happen right next to my house. But since yesterday, you've been acting as you do upfront. I thought we were safe here. But we're not, and even if I have ideas and desires, I'm powerless to do anything at all. So I need to focus on other things. I have to make myself useful to someone else than my aunt, because she's driving me crazy. She's scared, I know that's why. She can feel the tension. There will be less customers. If we let soldiers in and they ask for anything…"

She shivered and Bradley felt his heart tumbling down in his chest at the sight of her own fear.

"Did something bad happen?"

"No. It's in the past. I wasn't there. I didn't know until recently. That's why she's been so hard on us, so hard on me, and I can understand, but… I don't want you to worry. It's stupid to be scared because of things that happened in the past. As long as we're lucky, nothing can reach us."

"What's wrong?"

"Who did this to you, Brad. Civilians madmen? Dogs? Will they turn on us?"

Her face was so white, he felt ashamed. He couldn't lie. He couldn't tell the truth. He couldn't comfort her, when it was all he wanted to do.

"They won't. They're military dogs. They're kept under control and restrained."

"So then, why…?"

She seemed close to tears. She'd been working hard to keep it all in. She might have cried with him in the early morning, when they were holding on each other. He didn't want her to cry again.

"Don't ask, Amelia. Don't force answers out of me, because I can't tell. There are military secrets that needs to stay hidden."

"Was it because of the people you freed?"

"They don't need a reason. I was too rash. I need to report everything I do between their walls. It was just a reminder. I'm still too useful for them to go overboard."

"And this…! This isn't going overboard?!"

Her anger seemed so sweet, so pure. She cared. Damn her for caring and damn his life for being so complicated.

"I'm glad you take my safety so seriously, but you have to let some things go. I will be hurt again in the future. I will go through worse if I want to reach my goal. It's part of the path I chose."

His throat felt tight and she looked torn. It was wrong. It was so very wrong.

"I don't want you to be hurt. They must have done terrible things to you. You were tortured once already," she added, pointing his closed eye.

"And it's in the past. Don't worry about me. I'm not dying from any little wound. Tell me why you're scared. For your aunt, for yourself?"

She shivered again and this time, he wrapped his arms around her, unable to resist his instinct anymore.

"I don't know, Brad."

"Tell me what happened the other day. Why you came up to see me? You had questions and I bet I can give you some answer."

"Wipe yourself clean first. All that blood on your face… You should have rested more."

He complied and she was amazed to realize his ripped lips were closed and full again, looking healthy, even in the thin line he pulled them when he smiled at her. He could have kiss her right there, but he wanted them to talk, to act normally. And things needed to be set straight between them.

"You don't feel safe around here, do you?"

"I don't know." she admitted. "Our business means our door has to be open to anyone. Usually, there's no problem, but in such times, if we have to close up the hotel and even the dining room, we won't have any resources."

"Didn't your aunt found an investor the other day?"

"It's not that simple."

"If you need money, maybe I could…"

"This is not… I'm not trying to leech off your savings, King!"

She sat next to him, as if she couldn't think straight if she remained between his arms.

"I'm on edge. I didn't mean to yell either. The thing is… Once, my aunt was assaulted by one of her clients. The very fact she remained in the business is a proof of strength or stubborness. She never got married, never accepted to rely on a man and I was proud of her ideas, because I think a woman can fend for herself. But the other day, she cracked down and told me about all of it, because she feared that it could happen again with everything going on. So I went out to have a talk with you, because I was scared and because I wanted to prove her wrong. And after being shot at for one of the first times in my life, I can say that I stand corrected."

Bradley took a few seconds to swallow it all up. He could picture every scenes Amelia was in. He could picture her grief and sympathetic pain for her aunt. The way she would have walked on the streets, seeking him, trying not to let her nervousness show.

"That was my fault." he reminded her. "If you were shot at. They were trying to get me, not you. And I can have your house protected by sentries."

"That would make it worse. The army is doing all it can, I can tell as much, but their guerrillas tactics aren't making them an easy target. If someone would rise up to claim all those fires and bombings, you would have something."

"But if we make a clear stand ourselves, the population might turn on us. It's true that living in a military state can be frightening, but…"

She shook her head.

"I'm not always worried. Seeing you so down yesterday… Knowing that the very institution supposed to protect us would hurt her own soldiers…"

It had been a mistake to come to her.

"Forget it. I'm fine, Amelia. I'm fine and I'll make sure you get through this ordeal unscathed, both you and your aunt."

"You can't make such a promise. You shouldn't promise me anything."

"Why?"

"We're not free, not even here. You're bound to the military, to your goal and I'm attached to the civil world. You will never be able to speak freely with me, to tell me whatever's on your mind. I have no right to use your connections and force more punishment on you because you have a liking to me. How fair would that be to my neighbours, to my aunt?"

She had been reading that damn book far too much to say stuff like that.

"I don't care about fair. I don't like you, I _love_ you, Amelia. I've never loved anyone. I've never had anyone. Now I have friends, but they could turn on me at any point, just to obey our superiors. You're the only one I can trust in this."

"But I can't see you at all. All the time, it's you passing by to check on me, your writing on a sheet of paper, or your strained voice on the phone. I can't come to your place unless one of your comrade call me up. And all the time my aunt keeps telling me, he'll get bored of you, he'll run as soon as he gets what he wants, don't get your hopes up, go back home if the first soldier around the corner can keep your attention for so long. But you're not any soldier, I don't want to think of you as a soldier, I…"

She swallowed, blinking, shaking her head, looking so lost and so filled with doubt. It was the first time she'd lost her bearings in front of him. He'd seen her scared or tense, but even yesterday, when they were fleeing for their life, she had kept her cool.

"What's wrong? What's wrong with what your aunt says? I wish we could see each other more often, always, but I don't have a home of my own, I don't have enough money or a situation. I need… We need to go through this courtship. I want to get to know you better than just letters. You were always looking after me, always worrying about me. But I'm not your brother, nor any no-good soldier looking for an easy girl."

"I know that."

"Then you have to keep in mind that I can help you too. You can lean your hardships on me. Isn't it part of being a couple? You can trust me."

"And I do."

Her hands had slipped into his and her tears were close to fall but still filling her eyes, not slipping past her eyelids.

"Then let me pay for the lost clients and close the doors of the hotel for the time being."

"I can't depend entirely on you." she protested.

"So you'd risk your aunt's and your own safety for pride?"

"Why not? You're risking your life for a pay check, technically."

She blinked her tears away, a small smile growing on her face.

"That's a cheap shot. And you know it's not true."

"I may be scared, but it doesn't mean that I'll give up so easily. As long as no one knows I'm being courted by a military man, I should be fine."

He sighed, understanding that she was joking now.

"Don't say it like that. The courting hasn't even start. I still need to take you out someplace instead of sleeping in your bed as some teenager."

"I guess you're right…"

She tried to smile, but the tears kept coming out.

"Stop holding everything back. You're always telling me to let stuff out myself."

"I know. I know. But my aunt will be waiting and…"

"Let her wait. Tell me what's wrong."

"I just told you… But I hate to cry."

"So it's fine if a wounded soldier do so, but it's wrong for a lady?"

Her tears overcame her voice and sobs make her body heave as he welcomed her in his arms, sorry to be the principal cause for her crying. It seemed fine and fair that he would support her after all she did for him. She whispered apologies for being so easily overcome and he comforted her, laughing at her excuses and reminded her that it wasn't wrong. When most of the sobs had died down, his shirt was damped with her tears and her face was red.

"Thank you, King. I guess I was stressed out from yesterday."

"I wouldn't blame you."

She smiled.

"I must look awful."

"Then I guess we're perfectly fit for each other, cause I've looked better before."

A stroke of her hand on his jaw, swift and gentle against his bruises tried to tell him otherwise. He leaned in for a kiss, and was welcomed by her hands in his hair. There were less bumps on his skull and he felt a fire growing in his chests, though kissing her with more passion was highly inappropriate. But he did anyway, until she moaned and pushed him back, which had him winced in answer. He had bruises and cuts that still needed to be healed.

"What's wrong?"

"That's over the edge." she retorted, one hand on her stomach.

She was still afraid from the assault on her aunt and Bradley guessed he would have to take time.

"Did I hurt you?" he insisted.

"No, it's just…"

As he held her to him, she blushed and he understood.

"Kissing you makes me nervous too, you know."

She half smiled, biting her lower lip.

"And you just said you wanted to act unlike teenagers."

They laughed together at that, tears forgotten but still too close for comfort.

To be continued.

I must admit that I wasn't sure about the book that I invented myself in this chapter. It kinda took over and I found myself engrossed into a new story that I could write, though its ending would be different. There will be more action in the next chapter, I promise. Please leave reviews to cheer me into updating faster. Or give me suggestions. I have a vague outline but I don't know how long this civil war should last. And if you think this chapter needs correction, I'd be glad to correct it. :D


	16. Sealed lips

So the reason why I couldn't update anything sooner was because my thesis and assistance in research are taking over my live. Like most of it. But I'm still writing this story. I had trouble with the date. Because this is Bradley's and Amelia's first official date for the record. Dates don't write themselves. And I don't want to drag the story like last chapter did. At least, that was my impression. So well, read, I'll tell you more in the end comment. ;)

Chapter 16 - Sealed lips

Bradley was trying to drown himself. It had been three weeks. The fights were bad for the city, but there wasn't much blood for Father's crest and the other homonculi were thinking about quickly ending this guerrilla civil war to start up some chaos somewhere else. It wasn't Central's final hour yet. Amelia hadn't called or write and he hadn't had the chance to reach her in any way. His wounds were healed, replaced with new ones. Juliett was stuck in the hospital, refugee's camps were growing in the larger buildings of the city that were still standing and the whole city was blocked. Nobody could enter or leave. The culprits would pay.

Bradley wished he could just drown in the shower. Losing consciousness for a few minutes, to wash away the pictures burned in his mind. But he could hold down his breath quite a long time. After half an hour, insistent knocks on the door invited him to get out. His scarred eye ached in its socket. His skin felt too damp. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep. His few left souls were yelling in his mind. They had suffered enough already.

King barely talked to his friends. He needed this whole mess to end. He needed something in his life to start being normal for real. Shuffling in his bed, he saw burned flesh, crumbled walls and crying children calling for lost parents. At some point, the visions turned into nightmare and he was the child, calling out for some real father or mother. They had to be somewhere. Something different. Was he defective? What was the reason for him to find himself in that laboratory with the other kids? Was he from another country? From some burned orphanage forgotten 24 years ago? While awake, he kept those questions away. No use asking himself. No use losing his mind over it. He had to remain sane and sound. He had to keep his goal,_ his_ goal in mind. Forget the farce behind it. But…

The dreams remained, hunting. A small boy, barely a toddler, walking among rubble, carrying a toy sword. Messy dark hair hanging over green eyes that were void of purpose. A puppet waiting for his strings.

"There's no true freedom in this world" Bradley tried to make it sound real. For his fate to seem less appalling.

But the boy grew up, running in the rubble, his eyes wild, his voice clear and loud in the smoke coming from wounded houses and streets. And he was looking. The sword he carried was turning into steel. It cut through his skin. His bones were cold in his burning, feverish flesh. The boy was searching, looking for the family he certainly had. There was no name to call out. There was no home to turn to, not even a church step in this country of non-believers. Where had he been left? When had he been cast away, to live apart from humans? Had he even been given birth normally? He could picture horrible scenes, butchery from the wars, tortures inflicted on the women to make the man suffer more before their own death.

And the boy grew up, bleeding and searching, his eyes shining with fear of never finding. Bradley woke with dark bags under his eyes. He moved faster than ever and for each life he took on the battlefield, there was one more dark street in his dream and one less soul in his heart. He fought to keep his own self, the real boy, who had learned and strived for excellence and domination. The boy who refused to stay down, to be beaten, who destroyed the others in order to remain alive. The boy who first took a life without a real notion of death, and who had been so shocked to see blood. To learn he was disposable. That they were all disposable. Having friends today was a masquerade, wasn't it? Wouldn't they turn on him? The military wasn't that far from his old home, the laboratories and classes.

The kid turned into a young man, angry for the questions in his heart that hadn't been there before, when there were walls surrounding his existence. The blown up buildings were opening his mind, giving his thoughts wings.

What if I had been closer to the wall when it was blown? I would be dead. What goes on then? What's the point? Why can't I chose my own purpose? Are parents supposed to give you one? Is it why? Why they left? Did they died? Were they killed? Was I an accident? A burden? A pile of flesh, left to die on the street and adopted by gold tooth? Or was I planned? Carefully bred, like a dog or a horse, to be snatched away from a mother who couldn't care less about me?

Sometimes, Bradley was staring at the ceiling, invaded by those thoughts that threatened to drive him over the edge. He was this close from going through the scientists files. They had to have files over him and the other perspective furher. They had to know. Someone had to know. But what would it change to know? Why wonder over it now? Because he saw kids losing their own past in front of his very eyes? Because the only thing he could give them was a place in the army, in the future. Because one woman had been clutching at his uniform, begging him to bring back her husband, who had been crushed underneath their own house? He had been through such thing before, during the war. He had kept all the questions away. He worried about other stuff. But his trust in his own goal was shaken. He wanted to bend the rule somewhere. To prove to himself he could be stronger than Father and the others thought he was.

If he gave up in fear of them, there was no glory to his acts. No pride to take. No true anger. And he was pure, lethal wrath. Contained, always, never openly taking pleasure in making his enemies suffer. He'd do it later, when he'd be Fuhrer. Oh, he would play the soldiers like pawns. But would he remain that boy in his dreams, looking for his roots?

King sighed, sitting up in his bed, both of his eyes opened and uncovered. Everyone else was sleeping in the barracks. Fire was burning outside. Sirens crying out. People yelling. He would be asked to move out soon. He looked through the window, trying to close his other senses. Not to hear. Not to see the pictures behind his eyelids. They were all etched into his soul. The moon was shining through the clouds, bright and full. He felt his anger, burning in his veins. Pumping in his heart. Making him lose his breathe.

"It's not enough." he sighed as he unsheathed one of his blades and looked at the moon reflection on its edge. "It might never be enough."

He wondered. Did he need more deaths? Because it was the only promise he had. Except for Amelia, who made it a little more bearable. He wouldn't run to her this time though. Not before a few years would he break down in front of her again. He'd see her when he'd feel fine as rain. If it took him months to reach that state, so be it.

…

"I today declare the civil war over."

Bradley was standing in the middle of the ranks, second row. His full uniform was on, despite the heat of summer. Winter and spring had went by. He'd seen Amelia once, when he'd inspected the refugees camp her aunt and the young woman had made. She had stared at him as if she'd never seen him before while he delivered the result of his inspection. Then she had yelled at him in front of everyone, as he'd carelessly raised her in his arms, smiling before her anger. She had melted into his arms, even though she'd wished he'd show up sooner or more often. Bradley didn't know which of them he was testing. He'd told her he would be out on assignments many time and that she would be waiting for him most of their life if she wanted them to be together. He was supposed to take her out that very night. He could still see her eyes and hear her voice as she'd answered his declaration

_"I'll wait for you, big fool. But you'd better make it worth it."_

Her aunt had looked scandalized and the guys had laughed and cheered as Bradley casually stole a kiss from his girlfriend, not caring for prudence or civil war anymore. He missed her. Every day, he missed her. But as he controlled his anger, he controlled his eagerness too. Even though it wasn't easy, he carefully controlled all of his emotions. Letting wrath into every of them.

"You've done an impeccable work in the latest weeks and the rebuilt effort is well along."

Bradley twitched his neck to be able to see the clock. Time was going by so slowly now that peace was back in Central. His date with Amelia wasn't before five more hours. His patience was wearing thin already. He shuffled his weight from one foot to the other. Blinking at the clock didn't make it go any faster. Staring at his general drove him close to madness, because that was his place the fool was standing on. One day, he'd pull all their strings. Oh, it would be hard to wait for it. But worth it? He smiled to himself. He'd make it worth it.

…

"So remember, you don't kiss her until you've reached the end of the date."

"What?!"

"There's an implicit procedure for this kind of things."

"I might sound old school, but I don't have to follow a procedure. I mean… it's a date."

"So you think you can just go with the flow, unprepared? This is where it counts!"

Grumman was taking Bradley's love life a little too seriously to the young man's taste.

"I thought it counted from day one."

"It did, but the first official date is important. Especially when it's postponed like that."

"Eli, you're cranking up the poor guy with your old sense of fashion. Dates are up to the people living them. You wanna knock her up, you just go for it, Brad. Chances are to be taken."

Kimblee sounded creepier than ever with his wide smile. His wife had certainly been terrible with him the last night. His mood highly depended on the welfare of his couple. More than that of Grumman or some other guys Bradley worked with. Juliett was sitting at her desk, trying to focus as the men argued. She sighed helplessly after a few more exchanges between the guys.

"Would you mind letting him off the hook? Don't listen to a thing they say, King. They're both wrong. The one and only rule for this kind of thing is to be yourself."

_That would truly help if my self was a simple notion_, the man-made homonculus thought.

…

It was precisely six o'clock when Bradley rung the bell at the counter. Amelia, like a perfect lady, was getting late. So the young man was opposed to his potentially future aunt, who scrutinized him with eyes that felt like laser beams. Or well, alchemic electric beams. Bradley stood proud and tall, refusing to let it show how much the whole situation was unnerving for him. Even if he had already went out to walk around with Amelia, they had never been on any official date. Grumman had managed to convince him that the human courtship was a hazardous minefield, where your very life was on the line and worst of all, your dignity!

_Being a military dog, I wonder if I have any dignity left_, Bradley thought.

But he could always make himself believe he had some when he'd become fuhrer. That day seemed way too far for him, but as Amelia interrupted her aunt heated monologue on when they should return and why a soldier wasn't fit for her niece and why the whole civil "war" had been far too long, he realized he wanted to live in the present, never mind his low rank.

For a rare time, Amelia's hair was undone, gently framing her face. She was wearing a green dress underneath a long coat that showed some wear but looked quite good on her frame. A small touch of makeup added on her charms, a bit of green on her eyes, her cheeks slightly pink. She seemed more feminine than usual, but not less outgoing.

"Sorry for making the both of you wait. He knows you can't stand him, aunt Ella, you don't have to be so…"

"I can stand him. My beliefs cannot, it's a different matter!"

A small smile grew on Bradley's face but Amelia quickly turned him away from her aunt, silently suggesting that they make their exit.

"You two won't be out for too long, won't you?"

"Not later than midnight!" Amelia retorted, hugging onto Bradley's arm.

She felt so real, so close, and for a moment he could think that he was sated with just her very presence. But as the door closed behind them and as the young woman laughed in his ears, he knew he could never be sated. His souls sighed inwardly, amazed and delighted by the genuine feelings their homonculus was sharing with them.

"Won't you greet me with something else than those sparkles in your eye?"

"I had no word. And no place to speak with your aunt in the way."

"Such an easy defeat. Where are you taking me?"

She sounded like a little girl and his smile grew wider.

"You'll see soon enough. But…"

He stopped in his track, forcing her to halt next to him, her arm still wrapped underneath his.

"Is something wrong?"

He turned to look at her, his shoulders dropping slightly and her face turned full of concerns.

"I've missed you, you know?"

She blushed at his honesty and batted her eyelashes in her playful way.

"It's your own fault, Brad. You keep giving me warnings and trying to ward me off."

"I know. I want to make amends tonight. But someone told me I shouldn't kiss you before the end of the date."

He tried to sound as playful as her, not to show that he was a little nervous. She made it easy for him, snuggling closer to him, her arms wrapping around his neck.

"As long as this kiss stays proper, I don't see any trouble with bending a few rules of courtship."

Her fingers slipped through his locks as he bent his neck to reach her lips in a soft kiss that soon turned tender. She tasted something sweet and he would have to remove a few lipsticks marks afterwards but heck had this day been too long before he finally got her in his arms!

The date went on smoothly. A bottle of wine was opened, because Grumman's advices demanded it. The restaurant was nice and the food perfect. Juliett had suggested the place to Brad and he wasn't disappointed. But the best thing about this night was being able to be around Amelia.

They talked about simple things, the streets that had become safe again, the people from their refugee camp that came back to visit or eat in their little hotel. The business was looking good again. Bradley gave news from his squad to Amelia. She had taken a liking to the military stories he could tell. Everything was going quite well until Lust showed up in the restaurant. She was accompanied by a young man that blinked at Wrath wickedly. King tried to remain quiet, but his face turned a few shades paler. The hand resting on his leg turned into a fist. The magic was broken and small talk seemed impossible, with his souls worrying just as fast as his imagination could. Which was too fast. The homunculi wasted no time in walking up to them.

"Hey, King, what a surprise!"

The shape shifter dressed like a soldier had his trademark over-large smile as he clapped his hands on their table, making Amelia jumped slightly. Lust stood right behind him, a warm grin over her face. It felt really wrong to Bradley.

"Oscar, how have you been?"

His voice was colder than ice. The poor human sitting in front of him looked taken aback. She knew no Oscar from any of his military tales.

"Good, good. But who's your pretty lady friend, King, you rascal!"

Lust's smile turned wider and dark shadows itched themselves on her skin. Bradley could almost see her nails turning into blades. She was standing right next to Amelia. He knew Envy could kill her with a simple kitchen knife. His voice got stuck in his throat as his eye shot glares at both of them.

Bradley knew that they already knew her. But to see them so close to her. In the same room as her. The very thing he'd never want to see happening. What was going on ? He hadn't done anything bad for Father's plan, had he?

"You won't introduce us?"

Before that Amelia could intervene, as she was hesitating, clearly seeing her "official boyfriend" anxiety, he retorted in a muffled bark:

"The timing's not good. Say what you want from me and get out of my sight."

"Brad!" she protested.

That was just too rude, even for him!

But Envy laughed it off, Lust looking flustered, which was quite a sight actually. Such acting skill.

"I didn't mean to interrupt your date. Just checking up with you. General Heim was looking for you yesterday, you know."

That was a codename for Father and Bradley had to use all of his willpower not to jump on his feet and draw out the closest weapon he could find.

"I've heard so. I'll get in touch with him tomorrow if I can."

"That's good. We'll let him know. Guess it's goodbyes now.

Lust exchanged a gentle look with Amelia, who nod her head, reduced to silence by this awkward exchange. Envy and Lust than went to talk to the restaurant manager and were conducted to a back-door place where VIP tables were kept away from prying ears. Bradley couldn't focus his attention back on Amelia until that they were both out of sight. She didn't wait for him to turn back towards her, crossing her arms over her chest.

"What was the meaning of all this?"

"Those weren't … friends."

"I got that. You're all tensed again. What's going on?"

She looked anxious now and he sighed. This whole thing was going downhill.

"There are some things going on in the army. Tensions. Exchange of powers. You know, politics and stuff."

"And why would a sergeant be in the midst of such schemes?"

"Who talked about schemes?! I didn't use that word."

His tone was playful now, as if to tell her it wasn't that big of a deal, but they were both whispering, as if they were worried someone could be listening in on them. Bradley couldn't even tell which one of them started whispering or when. All he knew was that she would be worried about him. And that this might be a threat for her.

"King, please! You can't keep me in the dark!"

"It's for your own good, Amelia."

Lying was no good. But lying was his only option. The only thing good for her would be to go to a foreign country far from Amestris and far from him and the rest of his kind of man-made human.

"How can you say stuff like that! As if you could die even now, when there's no war going on, nothing…"

Her voice raised but remained too low for other people to hear it. Though now, it was clear that she was hurt. Couldn't he trust her? Was she such a simple little woman that she couldn't hold her tongue if he told her some army secret? Why was he always putting himself in danger?

"Calm down, Amelia, it's not like that. I'm just…"

"You're not going to tell anything to me are you? You had that look on your face when they walked in, the same look you had on the roof when people where firing at us."

He frowned at that, hoping she was giving him a way out.

"What look?"

"Your warrior look. That goes with your royal name."

Now she was pissed at him. She pushed her dessert plate aside, leaving the cake half-finished. He opened his mouth to reply, but she was faster.

"I know that you will leave me in the dark on many things. I know that might leave for a bunch of months without sending more than two letters to me and that I'm supposed to be content with that. But I don't like being taken for a fool, Brad."

"I'm not…"

"Listen to me!" she cut him, efficiently shutting him up.

_How dare she talked to you like that_, some of his souls warned him. He was too lenient with the woman. He was a superior being. He was also protecting her. She should be grateful for his very attention. But he was lying. And behind her anger, she most certainly was scared, for both of them.

"Don't pretend I can't understand what's going on."

"I don't understand what's going on, Amelia. I sincerely don't know a thing. The army's big, the soldiers many and I'm one guy with a goal that's too big for his own might. I'm playing around with fire. I don't want you to get burned."

"Talking in riddles, that's almost poetic."

She wasn't ready to let it go.

"Come on, give me a chance. This is not the place to…"

"Then let's go somewhere else."

He complied and they found themselves walking on the cold streets a few minute later. It was about nine o'clock and the moon was hanging in the sky, her crescent form bathing the pavements with her light. This part of the city was still rebuilding some of its road lights.

Amelia had accepted to follow him. But she wasn't talking to him. She was waiting for them to be in the right place. A few meters away from the restaurant, Bradley let out a deep sigh and told her:

"This wasn't how I had expected this night to be. I wanted to be able to talk with you, just to watch you smile and…"

"I'm not gone, King. It can still happen. But first I need to know why you were acting as if a soldier in the middle of a minefield. Do you already have so many enemies in the army?"

Bradley looked over his shoulder, barely moving his neck as he did, being his vigilante self.

"I told you already that I would make enemies. Becoming Fuhrer won't make everyone around me happy."

"But does that means you have to be harsh and untrusting with everyone?"

"Everyone except you. And the answer to that question is no. I do trust people."

The lie barely burned his throat, but his heart was aching in his chest. They were reaching the park where he liked to take her. Nature was soothing in his own way and Amelia always seemed calmer around here. The trees were lacking leaves, but the scenery felt more peaceful then the dark streets. The moonlight made her face look surreal. She smiled thinly at his comment.

"Your life sounds so lonely, Bradley."

"It's focused on my goal, Amelia. And right now, I don't have to be alone."

"But you won't tell me anything more. For my own good."

He felt bad, but things were bound to get worse than that in the future. He had to take the risk before to lead her on for nothing. She had let go of his arms and he was worried that she could walk farther away.

"I'll be frank."

"As always." She said, another smile on her face, but it felt cold.

"That's how it is. How it's always going to be. I can't tell you everything that's going on in my life, because being in the military is dangerous. I don't want you to try and join. I want you to stay just as you are. Who you are. So that you can support me. So that I can let my guard off sometimes. If you can't take something like this, we'll never work out, because I won't give up on my goal. I won't try to have a safer life. But I want you to be safe, at least."

His voice didn't waver on any word. They were staring at each other, their eyes locked together. Amelia was deep in thoughts and his mind was filling up with fears.

"If you want to walk away now…"

This time, his voice trembled and he looked away, angry at himself. Angry at the other homunculi for ruining this night that had started perfectly. He had been waiting for this for months! How could he remain sane without her picture in his mind, her voice calling his name or the idea that he would be able to meet with her every now and then? He needed her.

"I thought I signed up for more than one date," she retorted.

His eye widened and she grabbed his right arm, pulling him towards her.

"And I could tell that Oscar was a creep just by his smile. But it doesn't mean that I should be kept in the dark about everything. Even if you can't tell me everything."

He blinked, slightly unsure. One moment she was mad and now…

"Can't you make up your mind?!"

"You think I'd give up on you that easily?"

Bradley managed a smile at that. It was quite fragile and she sighed, wrapping her arms around him. He pulled her in an embrace as she whispered:

"The man who dreams of becoming Fuhrer can be so unsure about himself."

"I'm working on it, woman. Try to picture what you'd done if your aunt had barged in the restaurant and clapped on our table."

She laughed it off, trying to reassure herself. Not knowing was hard for her. But it was what he asked and he seemed so sincere. He had let her through many of his defenses already. One day, he might tell her everything. And as he simply held her in his arms, she could tell how welcome and secure it felt there. If she could stay that way forever, she would.

"I'll support you." She promised.

All in all, that was a more conclusive date than Bradley could have expected, even if he wished this question hadn't be asked so soon. And though holding a now calm and friendly Amelia in his arms was quite comforting, he couldn't forget Envy's words. Father was expecting him. Bad news were coming. And it might very well concern her. He might have done a better thing for her to push her away. But in his greed, he couldn't. Not until he made sure something really terrible might happen to her. And he wouldn't let it take place. Nobody would take her from him. He had chosen her. And she accepted him. At least, for now…

To be continued…

Cut short, but I really was having problem with that date. I thought, oh, it's going to go so well, I'll put as much fluff as possible, I live for fluff, seriously. And then Envy showed up and I had no idea what to do. How Amelia would react? Was this too harsh coming from her? She was already told that she couldn't know everything. She already knew that Bradley faced countless dangers. She had been shot at not too long ago. But the situation was different. They were simply encountering an enthusiast soldier in a quiet restaurant. Why would Bradley turn in full alert? Why wouldn't she be allowed to greet those new people? What is he hiding from her? And moreover, what is Father plotting?

I think this is a good come back chapter. I'm really sorry for the wait, but I can't promise any update dates. I'm working on many stories, both fiction, scientific essays and novels of my own. I still have many things prepared for this story. After all, I want to take it until they're married and Bradley turns Fuhrer. And even afterwards. So we're in for a long run. But I'm not giving up on you guys. Just review. It's the one thing that works with me the best. ;)


	17. Trials and Womanization

I had envisioned a part of this chapter from the very beginning of this story. Which is like… four years ago? Oh god! Anyway, I think you'll like this chapter. The title won't tell you everything, but, things are moving along. The quick update is thanks to inspiration and me skipping dinner in the name of giving you more to read! I'll got eat now. XD

I chose you

Chapter 17 – Trial and "womanization"

"What the heck was that about? Have you no respect for your older brother?!"

Envy was raving mad but Bradley didn't really worried about his so-called brother. He was more worried of the news Father had in store for him.

The blond man was sitting in his throne, still plugged to many tubes and other things. It felt weird, as if that body of his couldn't sustain itself. Bradley wished it was true. But Father had no flaw and if he did, he would need far more time to learn about them.

"I thought we had been clear that you had to try at least to show some interest to the wives that were selected for you."

"And I thought my choice was already made."

"I remember the nice argument you gave for your country girl, Wrath. But I also have to warn you, you shouldn't close your eyes on all the options that are in front of you. I'm not the one who will have to play the family man, that's going to be you."

King felt angered even more by this remark. Of course, he would be playing his part.

"But all the more reason for…"

"I didn't have them create a weak son for me, did I, Wrath? You seem… quite attached to that human girl."

Bradley crossed his arms in front of his chest. He was not walking into that trap. Oh no. Lust nodded to him, as if to say his guarded reaction was the right one. But then, her smile flashed in the dark and he felt a shiver running down his spine and it was suddenly hard to stand tall in front of Father.

"If you're too happy, you could forget your task."

"I'm not forgetting anything, Father. I'll follow every order."

Hohenheim's clone smiled his wicked smile, the one Envy was so good at having.

"Really now? Every order? What if I asked you to kill her?"

Bradley didn't flinch. He had stilled himself, but one of his left souls died on the spot. The idea was too blunt. He could almost picture it and it hurt. It would be too easy.

"Though I don't see what you'd get from it, if it's what you ask…"

"Good boy. I'll let you keep your toy. But you're meeting a few perspective wives. We're coming out in the open in many circles lately and you must choose our allies carefully."

"I'll do the choosing?"

"While keeping in mind my instructions. You should receive them soon enough. But keep in mind. If you don't pay attention to any perspective wife, I'll have your distraction removed."

Bradley knew better than to complain. Father wanted him to play his part, he wasn't asking him to choose from one of the perspective wives. But it still felt quite unfair. On one hand, he seemed to trust him to reveal their secret to a few selected candidates that would prove to be allies in the long run. They wouldn't be told before that King was higher in the army and every homunculus would have their word in choosing them, well except Greed, Sloth and Glutonny, who were either too rebellious or lazy or stupid to voice an opinion worth their interest. On the other hand, he disregarded his interest for Amelia as a weakness and was clearly implying that he could have her killed off.

If Bradley had any options of getting himself out of this situation, he would have taken it. Right now, he felt so stuck. It was as if all the steps he could take were already traced down for him, on a thin line and he just had to stay in line. If he strayed for the path designed for him…

_I'll be risking her very life…_

This couldn't happen. But he couldn't forfeit her either.

"I'll meet them. But I can be quite obstinate. Blame it on that human body you gave me."

Envy was clearly pissed at his way of answering but Father smiled it off.

…

The nerve of that dreadful thing! King was so angry he didn't remember the last time he'd been just as mad. He needed more power and stability in his life. A promotion would do him some good, making him believe he was going forward and not backward. Another date with Amelia was out of the question for now, but he did write to her. Golden tooth announced him that a ball would be happening to celebrate with the higher society the official end of the civil war. And that was the occasion for him to appear as an interesting suitor.

_Damn them all!_

Grumman was excited because most of the military could assist the occasion. He even suggested that Bradley invited Amelia to the ball. It wasn't entirely out of question, Kimblee was bringing his wife for example, which was rare. He never seemed to let her out of their house! But the situation was far too perilous for the future Fuhrer.

…

When Bradley had red about Amelia's aunt being sick and forced to close their business for an undetermined time, he should have known that it meant the young woman would immediately look around for a job to help her family in sustaining itself. The recovery of her aunt didn't seem close and she had little choice unless she'd wait to see their small economy disappear. Amelia didn't wait when something could be done. He should have known that she wouldn't want him to worry and wouldn't say what was exactly going on.

When Bradley had heard from Juliett that some maids had been trained by military men to make sure the banquet would go fine and the reception would be a success, he should have asked her why she mentioned it. It wasn't something new, the military was always hiring all the people it needed, especially for those occasion. Soldiers couldn't be suddenly asked to work as maids. Well, so he thought, but some lower officers were among the small personnel.

All this to say that King wasn't prepared for the night of the ball, which was supposed to be an unpleasant occasion to exchange greetings and nice words with women he'd never seen and would never see again. He had already decided what would happen. He just had to work a few things out.

…

The reception was taking place in the Armstrong's house, which was by far the biggest civilian residence in Central and could house at least three different balls at the same time. The first ball room had been decorated all day by a swarm of maids and butlers, with flowers, white drapes and the army symbols were hanging on every wall. The candelabras on the ceiling were shining bright, giving an intimate feel to the gigantic room. Music was being played by a small band of musician. Tables against the walls were filled with food and servants were walking between the guests to offer them some drinks and hors-d'oeuvres. Bradley was wearing a black version of his uniform, like every other soldiers out tonight. The Fuhrer had demanded the change since he was still mourning his departed daughter.

The young man felt really out of place. He was perfectly shaved, his eye-patch was brand new and itched on his skin, the uniform felt too tight, as if the scientists hadn't made it on the right measurement or made a mistake when they washed the fabric. His shoes were too shiny for his own taste. Everything about his appearance was perfect, as it was asked from him. The only color in the room was from the dresses of the women. Every dress had been intricately conceived to look richer than the other. And right now he was surrounded by a freaking rainbow of those dresses with their owner giggling around him. Brown hair, black hair, red and purple lips curving into smiles as they admired his allure.

He was trying to smile too and rediscovering what a great actor he could be. They all seemed pleased to be around him. He made simple jokes, listened to each of their complaints and remarks about the civil war in turn, didn't mentioning many thing about the killings and the heartache he had witnessed or commit. Bradley was important tonight as the man who had managed to get half of the rebels to join the army all by himself. He had been decorated for it with a medal. That made him some kind of hero of this civil war, exactly what he wanted in fact, for the future. But not for the attention that was getting him tonight.

One of the woman pushed her luck to graze his arm with her fingers. It was clearly made on purpose, even though she blushed, but that was enough to bring him off the track. He flinched a little too violently before that she apologized profusely. He wasn't ready to see his personal space invaded like that. King needed them to keep their distances. He was already letting everyone close enough.

"Oh, I heard the first dance should start soon! Are you a good dancer, King?"

Hearing his name on another voice than Amelia's was weird. He realized he might need to be around more different woman. He felt like some kind of cavemen. But he didn't want to feel at ease around anyone else but her. He could have least have that to himself, couldn't he?

"I manage."

"What kind of answer is that?" they laughed together.

Those girls would be the end of him.

"Who will have the honor of testing your dancing skills?"

_Shit._

Now he had to invite one of them. He should have kept his mouth shut.

"I don't know. Which one of you feel brave tonight?" he asked as playfully as he could.

His heart wasn't into it, but his question created a few sparkles in two or three pairs of eyes. The most brazen of the girl, the one who had grazed his arm took one step forward.

"If you put it like that, I'll take the first dance."

"But you must dance with every one of us, King!" another of them added quickly, disappointed to have been beaten to the punch.

"Sure." He whispering, swearing mentally. He was their entertainment for the night, since their respective father or mother had told them he would choose one of her as a wife and might become quite the influence around this country.

His dance partner guided him to the center of the room, where the dancing would take place without annoying the other guests. It was some kind of waltz and Bradley had learned it in the last three days, with Grumman for a partner and Juliett as their instructor. She wasn't up to dance herself, feeling a little off lately. As he spotted her in the room, wearing a navy blue dress, he observed that her face was a little green. She wasn't all that well. He wondered what could be happening to her. What if some sort of illness was invading the whole town slowly?

"Where are you, King?"

He had started dancing mechanically, barely looking at his partner.

"Oh." He faked confusion for the sake of good appearances. "I was just… worrying about a friend of mine."

"Is it a good connection?"

He frowned at her question, looking down at their feet to make sure he wasn't messing the steps. Even though it wasn't pleasant to dance with the woman, he had to put on a good show. And if he was supposed to be perfect, he would play his part.

"I mean, how does this friendship serves you? You won't become much if you…"

"I know how those things works." He cut her off with a harsh tone.

She blinked and her blond curls twirled as he spun her around.

"I didn't mean…"

He spun her around another time, making her dizzy and preventing her from talking. The waltz ended a few seconds later and he was free to take another dance partner, which would hopefully mind her own business. The next girl was shy and almost cute, though she was wearing a yellow gown that attacked his eye. The color would have suited her if it had been just a shade lighter.

"You must be glad this war is over."

"There's always another one, don't worry."

That cut the conversation short. The dancing was mechanic and he didn't spun many other girl around. One of them made him laugh as she turned around, her short hair reminding him of Eli's face as they'd been practicing. Juliett had insisted that Grumman played the girl, since Bradley needed more experience than him. It had been a funny exercise, though the contact was awkward. Grumman was pulling such faces and Bradley mustn't have been quite better. They did drink between every few steps to feel more "festive" as Eli would say. The girl asked if he was laughing at her and he reassured her. Telling her she reminded him of a guy would have been a little ungentlemanly. Every other women from the group thought she was his final choice, since she had gotten a genuine smile out of him, something no one else did tonight.

There was still one girl he was supposed to dance with but the music stopped and he excused himself, needing a break. Those steps weren't that hard, but nine different dull partners in a row was no small feat. He needed to catch some air. Or a drink. His last partner was a member of the Armstrong family and had quite a strong built, for a female. He called out a maid that was passing by with a tray. She was walking so fast she might have been running. Her shoes were spotless and she wore the same outfit as the other maid, but something about the way she moved made Bradley anxious. It wasn't normal. But he needed this drink. He called a little louder to catch her attention. And it worked. Her brown hair reminded him of someone familiar but as she turned around to face him, a smile plastered on her face, her green eyes brimming with held back tears, his heart stopped.

"What would you like, mister?" she politely asked, offering him her tray.

Amelia's voice was a mere whisper, but he could see the hurt in her face and her eyes. She must have seen him dancing with the girls. They were still all around him. The brazen one pulled on his sleeve and he saw Amelia flinching at the sight. She was supposed to be here, but…

"King, would you order something for us?" the girl asked.

The tray Amelia was holding started trembling as she waited for Bradley to voice his order. His mind was still trying to process the disaster unfolding in front of him. He could almost picture what she must be thinking in her head. This was just like her damn book. While they had always been equal, now she was dressed as a maid, offering her services and he was the rich guy asking for drinks. The more he waited, the greater the risk for the girls to notice what was going on and mess around with Amelia. He wouldn't put it pass them. But he couldn't act as if he hadn't recognized her. He couldn't invent himself a twin to make things look better, that would be preposterous. He was going to lose her before to even have her for real at this rate!

"Ame…"

"If you don't need my services, if you'll excuse me, I have a job to do."

Her shoulders had dropped slightly. How come he couldn't even say a word? How come he didn't told her he would be at this ball dancing with anything wearing a nice dress, even laughing with them?

"Actually, I'd like a martini. Do you have one?" the brazen girl asked, oblivious to the situation, or at least, pretending to be.

"I'll come back with one right away, madam."

She curtsied like she had been instructed to and turned her back on them, making her exit. Bradley stood back for a whole five seconds, his thoughts a mess and his souls panicking in his mind. He should go after her. Waiting was just going to kill the poor courtship he had vowed to undertake with her. He'd never wanted to be here in the first place and now… She wouldn't be coming back would she? She could send someone else. If he let her get out of his sight now, it would be over.

His heart was beating madly in his chest. The threats were forgotten for an instant and even his wrath vanished for an instant, replaced by fear. He couldn't lose her like that. It would be worse.

He didn't look at the women around him as he excused himself and almost sprinted after Amelia. His eye was fixed on her small back and it was ability alone that permitted him to walk around all the people and not right into them. Just as she disappeared behind a door, a hand fell on his arms, fiercely pulling him to a halt. One look told him Lust was here to deliver him a message.

"Take good note of this Bradley. The human heart is easily swayed. Jealousy, distrust. They embody each of the sins we are. You need someone who will believe you no matter what, someone that will not endanger Father's plans. If she cannot be it, you better learn it now than later."

Wrath pushed her aside angrily. His mind was set on one single thing. Going through that door and after Amelia. What he would tell her, he still didn't know. If there was a way to fix this mess, he'd have to find it. He had no idea what she had witnessed, but for her to be in this state, it had to be way too much. A man courting a woman wasn't supposed to be dancing and laughing with other ladies in a ball while the one he was supposedly interested in was serving drinks. It looked like some nasty twist taken from a bad novel. Grumman was so going to tell him that such mistakes were unfixable.

Beneath the door where she'd disappeared was a small kitchen with people working over everything. He was almost run over by a boy pushing a small cart of refills and had to hold the door for him. He desperately looked around, but Amelia was already gone.

"Can I help you, sir?" a tall and chubby woman asked him, her chef's hat making her the ruler of this kitchen.

"I'm looking for one of the maids that was working for you tonight. Her hair is in a braid and she's…"

The woman big brows frowned and her eyes turned cold.

"No that sweet girl that came in here crying? What was her name again…Corsin?"

"Corsaire." He corrected.

The chef eyed him doubtfully. Was he the reason for her tears?

"You're not going to hurt her, are you, soldier?"

"I need to know where she went."

His voice wasn't as commanding as he'd willed it. Wrath was close to panic. He could face confusion on the battlefield and cold steel in his flesh. Give him ten men to kill, a hundred of them, he wouldn't mind. But thinking Amelia could refuse to have him around because of this misunderstanding.

"She's gone through the backdoor. She's been working for half of the night already, so I'm still paying her, you have nothing to say about that."

He didn't answer, making it through the kitchen and out through the backdoor in mere seconds. He needed to catch up with her. He sure hoped that nothing else would slow him down in his pursue. The court was far too big, but he noticed a red wine coat in the distance, almost making it through the ornamented gates of steel. The sky above his head was filled with cloud and it started to rain, making the stones slippery beneath his feet. Those shoes weren't comfortable to run in. Nothing to do with his usual uniform. Thunder roared in the distance as he reached the gate. Amelia was on the other side of the streets, walking as fast as she could in the rain. She was holding down a hat on her hand, one that belonged to her aunt, because they hadn't enough money to own more than one hat. The times weren't easy. Bradley knew it. She would have own more books if she had idle money to spend. Right now, she was certainly mortified.

"Amelia!"

He hated having to call out to her. He was worried that would made her run again. Not that he couldn't catch up to her. King knew he was a faster runner. But thinking of her running away from him… The feelings from the night where he had suggested that she walked away from him were vivid in his heart. The fear of losing her felt worse than hearing any threat from Father. Who else would comfort him or make him smile for real? Who else could support him in his mad life?

She looked over her shoulder, giving him a glimpse of her red eyes and pale face. Her cheeks were flushed. She was holding back her tears and it made it harder for her to walk around. There was no one on the street thanks to the rain. Bradley was scared one of his homunculi brother could show up.

"Go away!" she yelped, holding the sides of her hat flatter over her head.

The rain was cold on his head. The drops fell in his hair and followed all the way down his nape. Each drop seemed to be coming from her eyes. And each drop hurt.

"Please, Amelia." He caught up to her, his hand grabbing her shoulder.

"I don't want explanations! I've had enough of all those secrets."

She tried to push him away, but he had to insist. He couldn't let her imagination run wild. He spun her around, so that she would look him in the face, holding firmly on her shoulders. She was trembling and crying, her voice shivering in the cold rain. There was anger and doubt in her face and something that made it worse to face her. Deception.

"Listen to me, Amelia. This wasn't… Whatever you think this whole thing was…"

He was looking for his breath, looking for the right words and she shook her head, unable to believe the nerve he had.

"What was it supposed to be then? I can't compete with girls like that! I can't…"

"I was forced to…"

"That's bullshit, King! I'm not that naive."

As she talked, she tried to pry his hands of her, to no avail. He was holding her in place, so that they could have this talk. He wouldn't give up till the right explanation came to his mind.

"I'm sorry."

"About what?! About leading me on? About pretending that you wanted to court me? Was that all a game?"

She looked awful, her face red from crying, her breaths coming out rashly, her chest heaving and lowering too quickly, her body shivering, her hat hanging pitifully on her head, her hair already wet because the fabric was doing nothing to protect her from the rain.

"There's no game. I was serious. I am serious. What you saw was…"

"I don't want to know! Let me go! Let me go!"

And her crying was getting worse and the ruckus was waking people in the neighborhood. She was drumming her fists against his chest and a few men walked out of their house.

"Leave the lady alone, soldier."

"That's no way to treat a young woman." Another one said, clearly ready to intervene.

Bradley felt his anger building up. This just wasn't fair. She was his only chance. Did he have to give up on her because of Father little play? Had the other made this whole situation unfold on purpose so that they could test her determination to be with him? He remembered Lust's words. But it couldn't be like that.

"I need to talk to you, Amelia. Please." He insisted, his voice as low as a murmur.

She slightly calm down, maybe only for the people walking outside of their house. She didn't this to turn into a scene.

"Do you need help, young lady?"

"Is that guy bothering you?"

"No. No," she whispered. "He won't hurt me, don't worry. It can get any worse than that." She added only for him. But her hand on his chest wasn't a fist anymore. She was agreeing to listen.

Central's people accepted her reaction and got back into their house, after eyeing Bradley with grave eyes. When everyone had gotten back into their house, Amelia let out a whimper and groaned slightly.

"I can't believe I'm going all ballistic for this. My aunt had warned me." She said, as if to laugh at herself.

"Don't go saying that. I'm not trying to mess around with you. My higher-ups ordered me to entertain the girls at that ball. They're all daughters of important investors, they didn't mean…"

"They said you were looking for a wife."

_Crap._

The rain wasn't making things easy.

"That was a lie. A make-belief. I already know who I want to spend time with, believe me."

She shook her head. How could she believe him?!

"I wouldn't blame you. A Fuhrer can't be seen with just anybody. Even if you're still nobody, you've turned things around during the civil war. You have a shiny medal. You're dashing and hard at work. Perfect husband material."

She didn't spit the words. Her anger was so mixed with sadness she couldn't be entirely cruel. King still looked down, feeling helpless.

"I'm sorry for showing up there. If I hadn't been there, you could have been keeping everything in order. Those girls for high society and me to pass time in between jobs."

"It's not like that." He winced.

"Then how is it? What did you mean when you asked to court me? Was it part-time? It's the part that I missed, right?"

She started walking, slower than before, and he followed her, surprised that she wouldn't ask him to leave her alone. She had to ask him those questions. She had to make him realize how hurt she was. And he wanted to apologize, but nothing seemed to be enough. He had a small idea, but it was madness.

"I am serious about you. If you could let me talk for a moment…"

"But you have a tendency at hiding things. And at lying to me. You said nothing interesting was happening lately and that you were bored in your letter."

"Those girls bored me to death, Amelia. They're superficial and…"

"Rich. Isn't that enough to reach your goal? I could never give you status or power…"

She seemed sorry about it. She sounded almost apologetic.

"I never asked you for that!"

"Then what is it that you want from me that they can't possible already have?!"

He didn't answer immediately, his feelings too raw to be put into words. She was taking this a lot worse than he'd feared.

"Ame…"

"Stop saying my name like that."

They'd reached the edge of another park, and since it felt quieter, she decided to finish their discussion there. They wouldn't disturb anyone this way. She took refuge underneath a tree which had a very few leaves on its branches. They were both soaking wet but it was the least they could think about. The tree's trunk

"I love you, Amelia."

"Liar."

"I mean it."

"Then why were you dancing with them when you've never danced with me?"

She was turning her back on him, unable to hold his gaze anymore. Bradley knew he had not many options left. He was going to do another gamble to get himself out of this. He slowly removed his eye patch, not even making sure if no one was around to see his tattooed eye. The cold air on his scar wasn't welcome. Right now, he was entirely focused on her. On the coughing and crying she was making as she tried to hold back her tears. She truly loved him. If it could still be true was now hanging in the balance. Seeing her with both of his eyes felt incredible. He could notice small things, the smallest shadows. It was painful.

"Amelia, look at me."

"No. I thought you would be making excuses. I don't want a kiss for an apology, I don't want to be manipulated again."

"Melia, I beg you. Look at me."

He waited until she'd gathered the courage to turn around and face him. He'd never felt this scared in his life. What if she yelled in fear, what if she decided to turn tail and disappear from his life? He flinched as she gasped, meeting his uncovered eye, but didn't look away. Her tears stopped as curiosity took over.

"What…?"

"I'm a monster Amelia. They made me one. And I'm sorry for putting you through this. Just showing you means putting your life in danger."

She shook her head, not believing him.

"You're no monster, Brad. It's just… What is it? What did they do to you? Who are they?"

Her right hand reached for his face and the caress was nothing but sweet and gentle as she follow the scar on his skin, staring at his eye.

"I wasn't burned. This whole ambition of becoming Fuhrer… It was their plan."

"Whose plan?!"

"The guys from the orphanage. They raised me for it."

"That's crazy."

"It's real. Look at the symbol on my eye."

It was the military lion turning into a snake. The symbols she had been setting up all day in the ballroom. She hid his tattooed eye beneath her hand, which made him sigh. She was certainly disgusted, but she wasn't running away for now.

"It can't be."

"I wouldn't get my eye tattooed like that for fun."

"Course not. Does it… Does it hurt?"

"Sometimes."

Was it really that easy? She wouldn't mind more than that? He removed her hand, so that he could entirely hold her gaze. She didn't look away. She even let him dry the tears on her face with his thumbs.

"What happened?"

"If I tell you everything, it will only get worse."

"But why would they want you to go after those girls?"

"That's… You named most of their reasons. I don't have much of a choice."

Her back was against the tree's trunk and he was closing in on her. He wanted her arms around him. His arms around her. Her tears gone and forgotten. He wanted to put the eye patch back on and go back in the time. She would never see him as a normal man again. She was under shock, that's why she was reacting so calmly. She would panic soon enough, wouldn't she?

"Brad…"

Her voice sounded so small, so filled with doubts.

"Does… it scare you?"

She hesitated before to nod, ever so slightly. He gulped down.

"A bit." She added, to make a little less wrong.

"I'm sorry. I'm too egoist to give up on you. You could be my choice in this nightmare, Amelia."

"You can't be serious."

"Will you stop saying nonsense? I'm always serious."

"But you have more than one choice."

"Not for now. So if I could still… If you still accept me to court you, knowing this…"

"That's if I can forgive you."

His fear showed in his green eye, but she gave him a frail smile, pulling him down in a wet kiss, tasting of salt and rain. His heart was beating madly still and she understood some of the pain he'd been carrying around. How lost he felt in a world where his life had been designed for him. _I've been raised for it._ She felt such compassion for him, more than ever. They parted just to breathe, Bradley gathering her in his arms, as close as she could be. Her hat had fallen back she felt cold next to him, just as he did, still soaked through. Their forehead rest against each other.

"Does this mean I'm forgiven?" he tentatively asked.

"For now. But I need to know what I'm getting myself into."

"A one year courtship deal with flowers, chocolates, books, puppies and anything you could think about."

She laughed but shook her head.

"No. I meant you, Brad. You said you were a monster."

Darn, his breathing went uneven at that. Those words were killing him.

"Your eye wasn't always like that?" she asked.

"No, it wasn't. I don't know how much you should know. I didn't ask for it. I did what they told me. I survived it."

"You can still see with it?"

He blinked, surprised and backed away a little while keeping her in his arms.

"I mean, you can see me?" she asked, hiding his human eye.

He was pale, pale and open, unsure. Was she accepting him, even with that thing?

"I can."

"But it's different."

"I can hide it again if…"

"No! You don't have to. We're all alone. And it's a part of you now, even if you didn't ask for it."

He looked surprised and shocked. He even had to blink a tear or two away and a shiver ran through him, clearly enough for her to see how vulnerable he was.

"Are you crying, King?"

"It's… just the rain." But the rain had subsided and he quickly added, looking for his countenance: "I should take you back home."

"Shouldn't you go back to that ball?"

He shook his head.

"The next ball I'm going, you'll be hanging on my arm."

"Oh, that'd be wonderful. But am I enough?"

He raised his eyes to the sky, holding back his laugh.

"I don't deserve you, you know. You're more than enough."

Before that she could protest, he kissed her, pouring all his feelings in the act. His heart had rarely felt this relieved. He knew he couldn't give up on her. His decision was made. And if this was a silly test, she passed it. Now he had to protect her as best as he could. So that he could enjoy loving her, kissing her, holding her and looking at her every day.

To be continued..

This could have been the abrupt ending, but there is more to come. I'm pretty sure things didn't go like this in Hiromu Arakawa's mind. But valentine's day call for fluff and so did my heart. When I started this, I had no idea Bradley would tell her the truth, I mean, about his eye. But the whole misunderstanding with the rich girls and the ball was clear in my mind since years. I was so willing to have it happen. And sorry if it's cheesy. This kind of situation can happen in real life. I think that Amelia actually handled it well until she was out of sight. Bet she was mad at herself for crying too much. But it was a humiliation! And to think he'd show her his eye to make her believe in him again. At this point and with last chapter, I think there couldn't have been something else that could have worked. And the rain was mandatory. Blame it on the dramatic opera music I was listening while writing this. The next chapter won't come out as soon as this one. I still need to go eat my dinner and get back in school work, but I'll need some of your ideas. The courtship shall last a few more chapters, before that they actually get married. Bradley is still going to follow his Father's orders for a while. And there's something else that I want to exploit, but now, it's not going to unfold the way I want it, since the truth is already out. But I guess I can still have fun with the plot. So please please review, you see that it works better than miracles!


	18. Never say die

Comments are at the end of the chapter! Know that reviews keep me writing. The fact we reached 45 of them made me so happy! Have fluff and heartbreak in exchange!

I chose you – Chapter 18 – Never say die

Bradley escorted Amelia back to her house, having trouble believing that he had managed to turn things around. He could have stayed under that tree kissing her forever. She suggested to let him in, because he was soaked and could catch his dead, but he refused. He didn't want to disturb her aunt. They exchanged one last kiss on the threshold. His eye patch was back and it itched on his face. Knowing that it wasn't a wall between them anymore.

"Be safe and don't do anything crazy." She whispered before to close the door.

King didn't see what he could do that would be crazier than showing her his ouroborous tattoo. Nobody could learn except from her. Now she was in danger. But she was also his. And that idea made him feel euphoric.

…

Two months passed by. Bradley had a date here and there with his girl, and the homunculi didn't argue nor did Father made any complaint. All seemed to go well. Maybe too well. And then, Bradley realized he had missed a lot of things about his life.

"You're resigning?!" Grumman almost yelped, holding the sheet of paper Juliett had handed to him.

"Juliett Mustang, what's the meaning of this?!" Kimblee asked, his eyes looking darker than ever.

"I…"

She had been quite under the weather recently and it was no surprise when she admitted, her hand moving to her belly.

"I'm pregnant, guys. I think I've worked enough for the army and I want to take care of the family we're going to have, Lloyd and me."

That sentence brought back every question and aches that were still in Bradley's heart and soul. On the other hand, Grumman was hesitating between congratulations and berating her. How could she leave them behind?! It was almost a treason.

"What good news, Juliett! Well, congratulations are in order."

Kimblee got up from behind his desk and walked up to her, giving her a warm hug. The very vision was unnerving, because any sentimentality coming from him felt wrong. He was the creep of their group after all, but despite it all, he was a human being. Or at least, he knew how to act like one when needed, Bradley thought, holding back a slight smirk.

"How long have you known, Jul?" King asked.

Making small talk would hold her in their squad long enough for Grumman to find his countenance again.

"For a few weeks already." She admitted.

He remembered how green she had looked at the ball. She seemed pale even now, barely blushing. Was she simply pregnant or getting sick at the same time? Her skin was almost translucent and he was certain to have seen other pregnant women before that didn't look half as bad as she did. Her cheekbones were showing, which was a first. Had he been in such a dreamy state because of how well things were going with Amelia that he didn't look intently at the world around him?

"You're unbelievable."

He couldn't voice his worries about her health. She would simply shove it aside and say that she wasn't something fragile that needed protection.

"I'm going to miss you King."

"Come on, we'll be visiting on you as much as Grumman wants. You know he can't live without you."

It wasn't a secret for any of them that Eli was quite enamored with Juliett in fact. He respected her and never went too far with his jokes, but this news was a serious blow to his heart. King nudged his friend in the shoulder, almost sending him sprawling to the floor.

"Say something Eli, this is getting ridiculous."

The blond man blinked, righting the shoulders of his uniform before to swallow it all down and put on a cheerful smile.

"We're all going to miss you, Juliett. Now I'm going to be the last sane person around here!"

She laughed at that and the three soldiers left, Kimblee had decided that this was getting far too sappy for him, fell in a group hug. They had been through awful times and good times alike. No matter how tough they pretended to be or truly were, it was hard to think this was a simple good-bye. Not being part of the military anymore meant Juliett wouldn't be able to learn what they were going through, would be treated as a mere civilian. She was their sister and no matter how much they wanted to visit her, another war would snatch them away and on the front. Bradley knew a promotion was waiting for him around the corner. He needed an occasion to get it. And people usually died when it came down to it.

Coming out from their hug, they decided to give Juliett the celebration her good news deserved. Their squad had other soldiers than the tree of them, but they were closer and took their comrade in arms to the nicest restaurant in Central. The next day, Juliett didn't show in the squad's office for her paperwork and her desk remained untouched, without any owner to sit behind it. It sank in slowly. Days passed. Grumman pretended he didn't mind, but her absence was hard to take. King pretended he didn't mind but the questions were still there. He had been given birth and all the things that happened before that time were a complete mystery. Who were those humans who brought him into this world? Was he some kind of bad surprise?

One week after Juliett's leave, a new recruit popped in the place. It was a young man, with a gruffy face and eyes that were closed most of the time. Kimblee was promoted to another squad and Grumman was named colonel and Bradley became his first lieutenant. They both knew it was a matter of time before they too go their separate way. Grumman was aiming for a position in the east while Bradley wanted to reach the top of the military and would have to stay here in Central. Juliett's resignation was just the beginning for their little group. But it was a heavy blow. And bad news never came alone.

…

"Please, please, let me through!"

Bradley was surprised by the young voice calling for mercy just outside the doors. It felt familiar somewhat, though it was so young. As a soldier retorded that civilians weren't allowed inside and the voice shattered into tears, he sighed. This ruckus was bad for his paper work. Those things would have to be dismissed from his charge when he would be fuhrer. He couldn't have it any other way.

"I must see the colonel Grumman! He has to be here."

Bradley was alone in the office. Grumman had been summoned with all the higher officers to a super council to determine if Aerugo in the south was proving too much of a problem. The next seal would come soon. And Grumman was in for a long meeting.

"I'm his daughter, won't you let me in?"

That was enough for King. He remembered the whiny little girl from a few years ago. Grumman barely talked of his family life, but he had been scrupulously celebrating his daughter's birthdays and had changed the picture on the single frame he had on his desk each year. Bradley had seen the evolution, the freckles imposing themselves on the pale skin, the blond hair growing long and wavy, since the current fashion demanded it. Ribbons had given place to complicated hairstyle and fashion took over her mother's cute little dresses. King wasn't ready to see her all grown up though. He'd seen her more often as an 8 year old child than anything else. Now, she was 15 and looked quite womanlike for such a young age.

As he walked out the door of the barracks and outside, he spotted her tearful eyes and the shaking in her round shoulders. She wore a blue sky dress, frilly and stained with teardrops mark around her collar. There was a loose shawl around her waist that hanged in her elbows and her hair was disheveled. A girl from her class would never go out looking like that if something wasn't amiss. The wind blew strongly, reminding the soldier that autumn was setting in and King felt an ache behind his tattooed-eye. He winced.

"Baron, you'd better let the girl in. Colonel Grumman will be mad at you if he learns you forbid her entrance when she's in such a state."

The recruit obliged, contritely. Anna-Elisabeth ran inside, her arms clutched to her chest, her petite shape looking incredibly small to Bradley as she stopped at his side, holding back her tears.

"Is my father around, mister Bradley?" she asked, making tremendous efforts to keep her dignity.

He shook his head but offered her his arm.

"You can wait for him inside. It will be warmer."

He felt something as she accepted his arm, a presence that loomed closely. It was hard to understand his impression and his few souls were quiet, sometime yelling a random explanation that made little sense in his many many thoughts.

_Not a shadow_, he analyzed. This wasn't Pride. The smell wasn't of Envy. Lust couldn't be anywhere, he would have spotted her right away. Then what?

As he closed the door behind him, she collapsed into a chair, heaving a deep sigh.

"Something's wrong with you, Liz. What's going on?"

"I can't… Oh, I must look awful, please don't look at me, okay? I'll just… stay here, silently, not crying and I'll…"

She seemed ready to crack and he looked away, unprepared to face such a situation. This was his best friend's daughter and she was clearly hurt. She kinda reminded him of the state Amelia was in when she'd seen him at the ball with all the sophisticated ladies _harpying_ it out on him. The thought still hurt.

He missed the little girl she once was. He remembered giving her a piggy ride once just to prove he could be good with kid and also because he'd lost a bet with Grumman. Amelia had taken care of Anna-Elisabeth a few times, always with his reluctant help and he remembered how the girls braided each other hair and how the kid used to smile. Now her smile was upside down, her cheeks red but her face pale and her breathing went unevenly as she tried to calm herself.

"Liz, I don't think your father is in the right mind to walk in this room and see you like this. You know he's still shaken by Juliett's resignation and…"

"I know but I can't control myself. I'm not ready for this either."

There was doom and affliction in her tone and Bradley felt anger. What could be so terrible for her to be in such a state? What petty human problem could she have? He tried to hold it back, there was no reason to be jealous or angry. He just had to contain his first reaction. To forget the little girl from another time and think about the young woman in front of him now.

"Maybe I can help somehow."

"No one can help me. Not even alchemy can change this."

He turned even more alert at that word. When had she encountered alchemy?

He kneeled in front of her chair and forced her to look up at him with his commanding voice:

"Tell me what happened."

As she inhaled deeply, her tears rising again, his souls warned him the presence was closer than he'd first thought. It was inside her. And then he knew.

"I… I made a boyfriend and he's been really sweet and nice, even if he's older and dad disapproved of us."

Bradley raised himself up, feeling a weird tangle of anger and loathing. That girl was fifteen. Still a mere child. Which proper boy would put her in such a situation? Heck, he had courted Amelia for more than a year and still hadn't done anything worse than kissing and holding her.

"It's not… that Hawkeye guy? Ber… He has such a weird name."

"Bertie doesn't know!" she yelled, her arms shaking around her frame, as she held herself. "He never meant for this to happen. There's still time, but I'm scared, Brad, so scared."

"So this is what I think it is."

His voice was cold, too cold for the situation, but Bradley felt a rage, both for the guy who did this to her and the fact she was looking for comfort when she should assume the consequences of her decisions.

"I… You think I wanted this to happen? I know I'm too young. I know we've been foolish. But I love Berthold."

"And now you're pregnant and trying to decide what to do with yourself?"

She flinched at his harshness but nodded, too scared by what was looming in her future to stand up to him. And he wished she'd stood up instead, like she used to. Had she been made weak? He could picture another woman, with dark hair, shaking green eyes, a woman as young, thinking about giving up the child that was coming too soon in her life. Was it how it had happened for his own mother? His anger flared. Such foolish human, falling into sin for love and idle pleasure.

"I don't know what to do."

He sighed, trying to stay rational if not compassionate. She was a young girl. This was only half her fault.

"Did you talk about this with your mother, Liz? She could help you. There are… ways of aborting or…"

The words burned his throat. But wouldn't it be better if she was so reluctant about this birth, to save the kid the trouble? Where did dead babies go? She shuddered at the thought.

"I can't do that. I can't tell her. I'm already disgraced as it is, I know. Berthold never was good enough for any of them and now… But I can't kill it." She added, her hands flattening against her belly that was still so normal, so not pregnant with life.

Bradley agreed with her. Either way weren't fair, but taking life away before that it even start would be a crime worse than murder.

"Than, what's left for you to do? Hide for the next few months, from your father and from your Berthold? They'll know, even if you don't tell them."

"Oh no, mister Bradley, you mustn't tell my father! I'll tell him myself. He'll understand and…"

She was almost wailing and it was quite ugly to watch, even if it did break his human heart. He tried to feel only anger. He genuinely tried so that he would be able to keep his calm. Anger was good. Wrath was a wall that prevented understanding. But while he felt anger, he still understood all too well. And he hated himself for feeling compassion, because that too did hurt quite a lot.

"Liz, look at yourself. How can he accept that you'll keep the baby with the state you're already in?"

"It's an important decision I'm making! And I have every right to be emotional about it."

One minute ago she didn't know what to do and was defeated and sobbing and now her fighting spirit was slowly coming back. The gods of Xin be praised, she was looking better. There was no way he was comforting Grumman's girl over this. He had better things to do with his life.

"So you made up your mind? Without needing to talk it over with that Bert…"

"It's Berthold. And I know he'll help me. He's just really busy with his research right now but…"

_Damn._

Bradley could almost see what would come out of this. Except for the kid, who had the potential to be anything. Everything. Anna had ruined most of her chances in life. He couldn't help but stare at her. She was so small. Her hands were still shaking slightly, but not solely from apprehension. Her waist was slim and her tights lacked curves. He remembered what some simple-minded soldiers said about women. Bearing children is a tough business, and a certain built was required. He had been worried about Juliett when she told them the news. And he was so worried for his friend. But what did it mean in his life if Grumman was crushed? Should he really care?

_Of course_, his souls warned him.

_But it's a weakness in their eyes and I can't be weak. Not if I want power._

This was a trifle diversion. He couldn't control Liz's life or make Grumman's worries vanish. If she died while giving birth, it was her problem. But something within him couldn't help but feel sorry for the baby involved. If things had been different, maybe…

"Dry your tears, Liz. You can't kill it, so you'll keep it and see things through. Your father's bound to help you."

"I'm not running to my daddy for help. Support maybe, but just… Oh, I know this was a mistake, but what's done is done and…"

Bradley gave her a tissue to wipe her tears and some time to collect her thoughts and emotions before to suggest her some tea. That was Amelia rubbing off on him and he knew it, but the warm liquid seemed to comfort the girl and so did it comfort him. Grumman thankfully arrived a moment later and King decided to get out from the military house. He walked around Central aimlessly. War was coming. It had been written all over Grumman face. Envy's smile the last day had also told him so. No surprise. He found himself at Amelia's hotel and was surprised when he learned that she wasn't there.

He was usually quite lucky about his unannounced visits. Then again, it was a good reminder that Amelia had a life when he wasn't around and couldn't simply wait for him to show up every now and then.

"She'll be leaving to see her parents in a few days. She must make some preparations for the travel, didn't she tell you?"

It was a surprise and a bad one. He'd seen Amelia four days ago and there was no warning, nothing.

"What is she buying?" he asked,

"Some medicine for her father."

He was gone without another word. He needed some reprieve. He needed to see her so that the anger still roaring within him could be replaced with easy chatter, nervous butterflies and wonder. He'd escorted her to the drugstore selling her father's medicine. It was an apothecary of sorts and she usually send the leaves and powder by mail instead of taking it there herself. He almost ran on the streets, feeling a new sense of urgency. Why would she leave so suddenly? Why didn't she even send him a letter, a note or something? They weren't supposed to see each other for a week or two, because of crazy training schedules for the new wave of recruits he was forming. She knew he was busy. She was patient. Had he asked too much? Was she having second thoughts? Should he have proposed already?

She noticed him at the same time he spotted her on the street. Her smile was faint as she realized how anxious he was. She was holding too many bags to hold him right away and gave him a sad grin.

"Did something happened?" she asked. "You look like someone died."

She wasn't even joking and he tried to contain himself a bit more.

"Your aunt told me you were leaving in a few days to go visit your parents."

"She did what?! But I'm not, I would have told you if I did…"

Shock was so clear on her face, he couldn't doubt her words. And he wouldn't put it past her aunt to lie. He escorted her back to the hotel, both of them walking quite fast, exchanging banalities. He had forced her to give him half of her bags at least, before Amelia was always too stubborn to let him carry all of her things. A small dispute later, things were settled between aunt and niece and Bradley was sitting on Amelia's bed, looking at the young woman fussing in front of him.

"I can't believe the gall she has!"

Miss Corsaire had declared that Bradley would do better not to take her niece for granted and that her white lie was nothing but a lesson for the both of them. She had looked scandalized to see Amelia dragging Bradley to her room, but clients arrived and she had to put up a good front.

"If you don't calm down before she comes up, we won't even be able to properly talk." He gently warned her.

She crossed her arms over her chest, eyeing him with suspicion. Lately, less talking was involved in their meeting. They always felt they had much catching up to do.

"Or well, improperly kissing." King corrected, smiling at her approving nod.

"It sounds childish when you say it like that."

"Child shouldn't be doing stuff like that." He sighed, darkening slightly.

She came to sit next to him and gently slipped her hand inside his, their fingers intertwining instantly. Touch wasn't as scary around her anymore. He barely flinched when she would get too bold and right now, her caresses were more than welcome.

"What's wrong, King?"

She would be so sad if he told her.

"Nothing. I missed you."

"You always say that."

"I always miss you. Even when you're standing in the same room as me."

She blushed and shook her head, but he could tell she was moved by his words and he liked to see their effect on her.

"Be serious Brad. There's no need for flirt or…"

"I like seeing you flustered, just as you like seeing me being clumsy and aloof."

He tugged on her arm, gently turning her around so that she would face him.

"Not aloof. Aloof is bad." She retorted, poking him on the nose. He dodged her finger and kissed the palm of her hand, smiling, because her smile always did that to him.

"What's good then?"

"You, Brad."

His breath was caught in his throat. Half an hour ago, he had been rough and harsh with someone who merely needed help and comfort. And still, in Amelia's eyes, he felt like a different person. Maybe his true self. He had too many true selves. It still scared him. He was still trying to find the right persona to be the ideal Furher, both for himself and his Father's plans.

They exchanged a kiss that was half pure, half dirty. He needed much much more of those. Her hands were on each side of his head and he gently laid her down, to gain more comfort. She knew he needed gentle touch from the way he breathed between kisses, from the way he cradled her in his arms. He could tell how welcome he was, her legs wrapping around his waist, her arms on his shoulders. Property was a far gone notion. They were old enough. His mouth explored her face, going down her jaw, to skim over her neck, her collarbone, moving away the fabric of her dress with his hand. She ruffled his hair, holding his head in place, massaging his scalp.

The door had three locks instead of one now, a modification made by Bradley just recently, so her aunt's wrath was not entirely on their mind. The studs of beard on his face made her laugh and gasp and those sounds were the best he'd heard in his life.

"King…"

She slightly pulled on his locks, her breathing going wild at his ministrations and he forced himself to a halt, letting her dress cover her left shoulder anew. It was always fascinating for him, how every piece of her body and skin could mesmerize him. His left hand was toying with her hair, her braid undone, while he held himself above her with right arm. Their gaze locked together, the embrace feeling more intimate. She cupped his face with one hand, before to remove his eye patch, which made him tense even if he knew everything would be fine.

"You shouldn't…" he started, ready to raise himself up and break the moment, but she held him to her with her legs, making it a little hard for him to remain motionless.

"What's wrong?"

"I feel so human with you." He sighed, burying his face in her neck and breathing her in, which caused her to shiver.

"Not the eyepatch, King. Something else happened. It's in your eyes."

"There's no emotions in that… thing they stuck to my face."

"It's in your heart. In your hands, in your kisses, in the way you touch me. As if something's holding you back and at the same time you want to let everything lose."

It was true he was rarely this outgoing and that when he was, it was harder to get him to refrain his enthusiasm. She couldn't blame him. She was just as enthusiastic as him. It was comfortable, being together, getting to know how to be together in this kind of closeness. They wanted to share each other in every way, but Bradley still thought the proper way of things was to marry her first and hadn't ask her the question yet.

"Okay." He sighed. "If you don't untangle your legs from me, I swear, I won't be able to control myself."

She obliged him and they parted, quite reluctantly, sitting up and doing their best to look proper again. It was part a game and part an obligation. The courtship demanded it. Bradley was proud of his self-control. But slowly he realized a few buttons from his shirt were undone and that she was so prettily flushed, with her lips swollen from their kisses… The sight was almost enough to throw her back down on the mattress.

But that would be ungentlemanly and too rough, even if she loved him.

"So…?"

"Juliett had her baby last week."

"I know, it's a boy, huh? She named him Roy? Bad name?"

"It's not the name. It's the baby. That and the fact Anna-Elisabeth Grumman got herself pregnant."

Amelia let out an indignant cry.

"But she's… she's just fifteen years old!"

He waited for her to calm down before to whisper:

"I'm 26, soon 27 and still single while a fifteen years old is having a baby."

"What's the world coming to", she sighed. "So what's worse, being legally single or not being a father?"

He laughed at that and held her in his arms, his back resting against the wall.

"I guess I took the wrong way to introduce the subject." He mused.

"Which subject?"

She was looking at him with warm eyes and her smile held something wicked. He knew that look. The first time, he had felt scared, as if Lust could have taken over her and it was a nightmare and not his real life, but… lust was part of human nature. And her playfulness was still there, in the twinkle in her eyes.

"Being a selfish man who wants you to be his."

She gasped at that, blushing, but her eyes didn't look away. He knew she was as nervous as him. Despite the familiarity and intimacy that had grown between them, closeness yet had to become absolute.

"Would that mean that I could be selfish too?"

Her hands were lying flatly over his chest and she stared at him, undoing another button of his shirt and grazing the airs on his torso. The shivers that ran through him at that were the best he'd felt around her. God, she wanted him. All of him, even with the tattooed eye.

"Sure, but we're still in the middle of courtship and…"

She gave him a look that was half annoyed half amused. It had taken them quite a long time to get this far. Maybe was it time to screw a few rules. But he followed rules, dutifully. And she liked the wait, liked to feel respected and admired. He could tell. Or at least, he had the illusion that he could.

"I need to do this the right way, Amelia."

She replied with a tender kiss and it was hard to resist tenderness when he found himself craving more after being so deprived from it.

"You know the saying, Brad? If this is wrong, then I don't wanna be right."

It couldn't be wrong, nothing involving her touching him could be wrong, simply improper and he had learned that improper was nice.

"I want you, 'Melia, you know it. It's hard sometime and it hurts but… We might be send out at any time now. I don't want to rush things and be forced to leave you for months afterwards."

"But you're always going to leave at some point for war, council or diplomatic missions."

She slipped off his lap and crossed her arms over her chest, her shoulder brushing against his. He wanted to hold her. To get up and run away before the dream ended. It couldn't keep going so well. Somehow things would go to hell. Father would order him to do something crazy. She would be hurt. She had been so patient already. Would waiting anymore serve any purpose? His mind was made up.

Bradley shifted his weight, trying to picture how to phrase his thoughts. His souls cheered him.

"Be my wife." He asked.

"What?!"

"It's the next step, isn't it?"

"You're just asking it like that, without even looking me in the eyes?"

He bit his lips as his souls booed him, but as he got up and buttoned his shirt to look a little proper, she was smiling. And the twinkles in her eyes had grown into stars.

"Where did you put my eyepatch?"

"You don't need it."

She meant to add : not with me at least.

"I certainly do."

And it was simply because he was afraid she would end up scared when she'd finally gotten over the fact he'd told her the truth. Taking a deep breath, his eyepatch back on his eye, the green one looking intently at her, he motioned to kneel. She stopped him, shaking her head.

"Don't… There's no need for classics. I just need you to be yourself."

"Give me your hands." He asked.

She complied and he pulled her up, not letting go. She looked small and frail, a human girl, the woman who held his heart in her hands. For a moment, doubt sneaked up on him, threatening to have him back away. But was there a choice when he could have her around as much as possible?

"Would you be my wife, Amelia?"

Her smile glowed and she wrapped her arms around him, soon engulfed in a bear hug.

"I'm yours if you're mine, King."

He had no idea how much courage it took her to say those words. Had no idea how he could promise to be hers when he didn't have the impression of belonging to himself. But this was asking a lot of her. To follow him in the schemes. To join in the danger of his military world when she was a pacifist at heart. He was familiar to her now, but also unknown and alien in so many ways. But all of that was swept away by the feelings taking over them. Her lips tasted like a smile and right now it was enough.

_I need a ring_, he thought as he walked out of the hotel, followed by the indignation of his soon-to-be aunt in law. If that even existed. His heart was lighter. There was no anger, except maybe at the time that couldn't pass fast enough, or the fact that it went by so fast when he was around her.

_Maybe flowers_, his souls suggested.

He already missed the feeling of her in his arms. He realized he'd barely asked her what was happening to her. He still had a lot to do if he ever wanted to be a model partner for Amelia.

…

"I heard our brother was quite happy with himself the other day." Lust whispered at no one in particular, standing alone in the underground tunnel.

"I heard about an official demand. He's getting serious about that bag of meat." The shadows replied in their hushed voices.

"She almost plain, but they might suit each other on the regard. He's banal at most." Envy observed. He was hiding in the shadows, a black cat in a dark place.

Lust's eyes shone red.

"Do you think what I think, brother?"

"Our younger brother needs some more testing. And so does his potential wife."

Pride's grins had no bounds.

"It's going to be nice. We can dispatch anyone. You don't have to dirty your hands yourselves this time."

"Oh, I wouldn't mind, but we don't want to go overboard. Father would disagree. He seems to have taken a liking to his little soldier."

"Father doesn't care about a human woman. And if Wrath does, it's his own fault."

Their smiles got larger, while Lust simply nodded in agreement. Bradley would never know what happened.

"Who's taking care of Aerugo?" she inquired.

"Sloth is supposed to. Guess we should send someone to check up on him."

Pride sighed and pushed Envy around, which caused him to snarl in answer.

"I'm sick of being his babysitter." The shadowy homunculus complained.

"Let Wrath do it," Intervened Lust. "He'll be delayed. A skirmish can happen so fast."

"Bloodbath would sound better."

The cat was stroking his head against her leg and she picked it in her hands, one of her nails growing long enough to cut through shadows.

"Yes, it would. But there's a certain law in the world of humans. If things can got bad, they will get worse."

They exchanged a knowing gaze. The future looked uneasy for Wrath. He was still a pawn and he'd better never forget it.

To be continued…

This chapter is my way of telling you that time did pass by quicker than we thought. Bradley was around 20 when he received the stone, or well something like that, maybe younger. He was maybe 21 when he met Grumman's daughter the first time and she was about 9. And now she's fifteen. So Bradley is around 27 years old. And still not married. But he's working on that as you can tell. The civil war last a good couple of months and there were many months here and there when he didn't show up around Amelia. Makes it all the more impressive for her to still wish for his affection. So, it's that makeshift timeline sounds okay to you? Any idea for what the homunculi are preparing for their brother? I have no idea when I'll post the next chapter, but it will arrive. Sooner than you think. ;) I'm not ever giving up on this story. I ship them too much.


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